


Wake Up and Live

by batmanbane



Category: The Dark Knight Rises
Genre: F/M, Jeff Sorrento, Juliet Marchand, Other original characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-14 01:09:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 41,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4544325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batmanbane/pseuds/batmanbane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The man who indulges his baser appetites is doomed." Bane advised his second-in-command testily. "Intercourse is visceral, best applied as a means of control. Further, romance is only for he who is weak in body and spirit. I am not that man..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight."

― Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

Chapter 1 – Prologue

Gotham City – Five days before detonation

Juliet had never believed in destiny, until she laid eyes on the masked man.

On a late winter morning in Gotham City she found herself standing at City Hall, seat of the mercenary who held Gotham by the throat. Bane's five-month reign of terror had destroyed the livelihood of every citizen, along with her own catering business. Garbage piled up in the streets, food was rationed, and the police languished underground while he and his men spread anarchy throughout the city. He'd threatened Gotham with a neutron bomb, promising it would be detonated in the event of outside interference or attempted escape. But word on the street claimed the bomb was unstable and would detonate regardless. The Batman had mysteriously disappeared, and it seemed no one could save the city now.

Strangely enough, despite her own fears and uncertainty, Juliet had made the trip downtown in the hopes of witnessing one of Bane's mesmerizing speeches. From her position at the foot of the stairs, she had a perfect view of the Grand Avenue mob. Scores of homeless citizens lined the street, all eyes fixated beyond her as they eagerly awaited the handouts of food and water that the mercenary occasionally offered.

Briefly wondering why none of the onlookers joined her on the stairs, she rotated to her left, and her eyes travelled up to the main entrance of the public building. The reason for the crowd's curiosity was now blatantly obvious. The man in charge had just made his presence known on the colonnade, and the people rumbled in awestruck response.

She'd seen him on the news — the conceited tyrant who wore the intimidating mask, the loquacious mercenary in the high-collared shearling coat. On television he virtually bounced with attitude, like a smug celebrity. But seeing him on the news scarcely prepared Juliet for the sight of the real, live Bane.

A slow blush crept over her as she recognized him, and her heart jumped with anticipation. Would he speak today? She watched him scan the crowded avenue carefully as if he were looking for signs of unrest. When he appeared satisfied, his eyes settled on the base of the City Hall stairs. Something, or someone had aroused his interest.

And then the reality of the situation dawned on Juliet. Bane was looking directly at her with an intense, unwavering gaze.

Without a glance to his second-in-command, he handed over his rifle, and slowly began to descend the steps, thumbs looped through the straps of his bulletproof vest as he came straight for her.

Paralyzed, Juliet could practically hear her heart hammering in time with his footfalls, and she held her breath as step-by-step he closed the space between them. His eyes never left hers as he made his descent — fascination was mixed with regal distance.

She panicked, wanting desperately to look away so he would lose interest and pass her by. But his piercing stare was far too powerful, holding her hostage until she realized she had no desire to look away at all.

He was enormous — tall and broad-shouldered. And although he was undeniably masculine, he had features that any woman would covet — gorgeous eyes, a generous fringe of long lashes, and a healthy complexion. Bane carried himself with slow, deliberate steps, radiating self-confidence and ego…

Juliet blinked and swallowed hard. She had not expected him to be so charismatic…

Truth be told, she'd had an itch for him since the first moment she saw him on the flat screen television at Gotham News & Books — she just hadn't realized it.

There was no doubt in her mind that he was well aware of his attraction, and if he had meant to seduce her with his confident strut, he was doing a bang-up job. Her lower belly throbbed, fantasies flooded her mind, and she conjured an image of Bane dragging her off to the bedroom.

She was his chosen one. She was that one woman who could tame him. She would teach him how to give and accept love. And she would save him from his misguided ideals.

When he finally reached her level, she thought he might speak to her, but only his uneven, metallic respiration sounded as eyes the colour of coffee beans penetrated hers. Close up, the fearsome mask he wore only added to his magnetism. Its insect-like jaws were obviously intended to intimidate, but the mask also seemed to operate as a device to help him breathe. It was a potent reminder that he could be vulnerable.

He was living, breathing, flesh and blood. All man, and absolutely breathtaking.

Her mouth dropped open at the revelation, soft lips trembling. Juliet tried to speak but the words wouldn't come. Her body vibrated as though it had just awakened from a long hibernation, and when she was unable to hold her breath any longer she released a slow, shivering sigh.

Bane's brow quivered at her response, and it occurred to her that she'd offended him. Fearing punishment, she gripped her leather gloves tightly. She hadn't forgotten his cruel killing of Dr. Pavel.

Her heart sank into her stomach as Bane's right hand fell from his vest, freeing his agitated fingers. Now she was going to die…

But she didn't die. Instead, Bane's twitching digits eventually returned to his vest, and Juliet could have sworn that his chest heaved involuntarily. She nodded in a gesture of acknowledgment, and her heart lurched again. Surely this encounter was written in the stars…

His frown seemed to deepen at her response, and the mask murmured softly. Then, as quickly as it had begun, the spell was broken. Bane's military entourage approached from the rear, and it was time for him to move along. Releasing her eyes at last, he pushed forward across the sidewalk and into the street.

First to follow him was his bearded lieutenant, who lustfully looked Juliet up and down while his right eyebrow cocked in interest…

___________

Bane strolled through the pillars on the colonnade at City Hall, stopping at the top of the stairs. Behind the mask, his lips curled in contempt as he surveyed the crowd on Grand Avenue. If the unwashed masses were looking for handouts again, they would be sorely disappointed. He would not offer hope today — not so close to the end.

He enjoyed their audience, but banned them from setting foot at City Hall, allowing them to proceed no further than the far side of the avenue. Although martial law was in effect, he cared little if the people took to the streets in the daytime, as long as they behaved themselves. Fear kept them in line.

All but for one individual, it seemed. Frowning, he spotted an interloper. A woman had defied him and dared to cross the invisible barrier to stand at the base of the City Hall stairs. And she was shamelessly staring at him!

Smirking again, Bane felt his manhood stiffen as he plotted his next move and passed his rifle to Barsad for safekeeping. He had a little game in mind as he moved forward. He would stare the woman down until she crumpled emotionally and begged for mercy. Then he would inform her that it was impolite to stare, before crushing her windpipe.

Gripping the straps of his vest, he advanced down the stairs, and the woman was further revealed to him. He detected no excessive use of cosmetics, disfiguring tattoos or piercings; and there was no unflattering hair colour or artificial scent. She was wrapped in a military-style winter coat.

He had noticed her hair first, which spilled in dark waves down her back. She was wide-eyed, clear-skinned, and pale. When it appeared that the woman understood his interest, her lips parted — soft, moist…and inviting.

His forehead trembled as a stirring in his core raised goose bumps beneath his shearling coat. He'd always considered lust to be beneath him, yet now his member hardened unapologetically with each step he took.

Closing in, he saw fear and obsession mingling in her dark green eyes, as delicate eyelashes fluttered nervously against porcelain skin.

Bane's legendary composure shook. He had not expected her to be so lovely…

His natural arrogance took hold, and he imagined himself a whole man, the magnificent lover she had chosen above all others. There was no mask, and there was no other man for her but him. He had won her.

Now he stood level with her, fully expecting her to swoon in his wake — until something electric passed between them — information, or an understanding…

And then a disturbing thought invaded his mind. In the absence of the Batman, Gotham had a new secret weapon. She had been sent to bewitch and weaken him so that the city could be taken back. His gaze narrowed suspiciously.

Impossible. Years of training with the League of Shadows had taken care of that. Now Bane returned to his original plan, but he could not remember what he'd planned to say. He freed his hand to crush her windpipe. It would be the end of her power over him.

And yet, he felt certain that their souls had communicated. She was no enchantress. She was beautiful and good, but for those reasons alone she could still hurt him…

Against his better judgment, he returned his hand to his vest, and she nodded as if to acknowledge whatever good remained in his mortal soul.

He wanted to speak to her, but could not find the words, cursing himself for his ignorance of the art of flirtation. All he could manage was a muffled stammer. Bruce would know what to say…

And suddenly the moment came to an end as Bane's men pushed from behind. Remembering his duty, he committed her to memory and reluctantly dropped his eyes as he moved forward to begin his day.

____________

Having departed the steps of City Hall, Bane and his entourage began their walkabout of Grand Avenue, a daily ritual intended to affirm the mercenary's authority.

His man Barsad was visibly annoyed, and spoke out of the side of his mouth so that the rest of the entourage wouldn't hear.

"Another blown opportunity, Boss!" He criticized in a half-whisper. "You had that girl in the palm of your hand and you… you just walk away from her? I don't get it!"

"I have no interest in intimacy with these citizens." Bane croaked haughtily. He gave the appearance of being calm, but in the last few moments his internal temperature had elevated dramatically, a reality that deeply disturbed him.

"You need to get laid, Bane!" The lieutenant insisted. "Talia is turning you into a hermit! Don't look now, but spring is in the air, so enjoy yourself while you can still get an erection."

"That advice is predictable, coming from a man who has fornicated with a different female every night of our siege." Bane raised a hand to the crowd, returning the attentions of a group of children who enthusiastically waved from the sidelines.

"Let me go back. I'll have her dolled up into a pretty package and delivered to you tonight!"

Bane stopped in his tracks, his colour rising. "You will do no such thing, Brother!" He bellowed, outwardly offended at the suggestion. "Instead you will arrest her for trespassing, and the only person you will deliver her to is Judge Crane!"

"Oh stop bluffing!" Barsad scoffed. "I saw what happened back there. She put the whammy on you, and you liked it."

If there was one thing on which Bane could always count, it was Barsad's gift for plain speaking. He had observed correctly. For the first time in years Bane had been captivated by a woman — one who was unlike most of the females he'd encountered in the foul city of Gotham. He had enjoyed the experience, but at the same time loathed himself for a weakness that seemed to come out of thin air. And he was astounded that his lieutenant would want to have her 'dolled up'. To his eyes, she was already perfection.

Barsad could harass him all day on the subject of his disinterest in the women of Gotham, but Bane was no fool. He'd understood only too well what had happened between himself and the woman. Her come-hither mouth and his throbbing staff were evidence of their shared want.

Bane observed that she'd worn a diamond solitaire, the indication that she belonged to another man. But even if he were to pursue her, the ring's meaning was of no significance. He'd always taken exactly what he wanted, no matter whose property. It was a lesson he'd learned long ago in the Pit.

In another time, another place — he might have taken Barsad's advice and had her brought to his quarters. But this was Gotham, where years of planning and sacrifice were about to pay off. Most important was his duty to Talia. Any diversions could spell disaster for their plan.

The second in command's voice rudely broke into the mercenary's reverie.

"I mean, do you even remember the last time you slept with a woman, Bane?

The dictator ignored the sniper's intrusive question, his conflicted mind still wrestling with the woman's hold over him. He needed to calm himself and think rationally. In these final days in Gotham, perhaps he was being tested…

"Have you ever made love to a woman?"

"I am no stranger to the functioning of my male parts!" Bane growled. "And you are making far too much of the encounter!"

"Okay, then just answer me this…Do you know how to romance a woman?"

The masked mercenary stopped in his tracks again, casting an annoyed glance at Barsad.

"The man who indulges his baser appetites is doomed." Bane advised his second-in-command testily. "Intercourse is visceral, best applied as a means of control. This is how Talia took control of Bruce, is it not? When I take control, I prefer the applications of violence and fear. Further, romance is only for he who is weak in body and spirit. I am not that man..."

"Suit yourself!" Barsad chuckled. "But you're gonna be sorry. One day you'll be an old man — full of regrets because you never let yourself fall for someone other than she who dangles the carrot but never allows you to touch her. Me? I'll have lots of stories to tell. But you won't."

"I have no expectations of growing old, Barsad, and I have no interest in boasting about sexual conquests."

"Exactly!" Barsad hit back. "Because you don't have any!"

"This conversation has become quite tedious!" The agitated Bane snarled. He was just about ready to snap Barsad's neck. "We will return to City Hall."

"Now, you're talking, Brother!" Barsad enthused. "If you're lucky she might still be standing there, and you'll have another shot at her. Now listen carefully while I tell you exactly what to say…"

___________

A heavy snowfall had just begun to cover the sidewalks as Juliet started her walk home. She hugged her body tightly as a silly grin erupted all over her face.

"I won!" She laughed, her voice echoing in the empty street. "I won!"

She had just played an impromptu game of 'chicken' with Bane, and won. The two of them had been engaged in a staring match as he descended the stairs, and he'd been forced to look away first, because he needed to pass her in order to get wherever he was going.

It was a small victory, but after months of Bane's occupation, it felt huge.

"Mmmmm…" she sighed aloud. She still tingled all over, an entirely new experience for her. She understood that the momentary encounter with Bane had been much more than just a game of chicken.

After all, she was a woman, and he was a man. They'd both been very aware of the appeal they held for one another during the brief moments of staring into one another's eyes. Of that, she was certain.

They'd had a moment that neither one of them would ever have to account for. She'd never have to confess the reason for her lustful shudder, nor would he have to explain the hungry ardor in his penetrating stare.

How was it possible that she could feel so intensely for the man who had triggered Gotham's probable demise? She felt positively exhilarated, electrified and alive. No man had ever, ever provoked a spontaneous reaction such as the one she experienced at that moment.

Up until then, the lessons of her grandmother had always been clear: All the best marriages are business arrangements. Love makes you weak, and poor.

Well, to hell with Grandma, whose theories had made Grandpa a very unhappy man.

Remembering where she was, Juliet was overcome by a profound sense of loss, and she scolded herself for obsessing about a man she could never have. The moment they shared was likely to be lost forever, swept away by a bomb with a six-mile blast radius.

And even if by some miracle the city survived, her future had already been decided.

She thoughtfully fingered her engagement ring, before shoving both hands into her pockets and forging a grim journey homeward through the snow.

Shit!" Barsad cursed. The woman he sought had disappeared from the City Hall stairs and was nowhere to be seen. "She couldn't have gotten far, Bane. He immediately offered to track her, and was surprised when Bane readily agreed.

"Brother…" Bane cautioned him quietly as he tapped his friend on the shoulder. "You will disregard my previous instructions. Follow her. I want to know everything there is to know about her. You are not to speak of this to anyone, or make her your latest conquest, do you understand me?"

The man with the big gun broke into a lascivious grin and smacked Bane against his armoured vest. "There's hope for you yet, big guy!" He beamed.

"Do not make so much of this, Barsad." Bane replied. "I am merely curious, that is all. The woman strikes me as being trustworthy."

"Right. Trust the crotch. I'll check in later, Boss."

__________

In the days to come, the city was saved. The Batman returned at the eleventh hour, sacrificing his life to carry the bomb outside the blast's radius. The city dealt with its mourning by immediately addressing the needs of the people. Necessities poured into the city by plane and boat. Skilled workers from every discipline were brought in from all over the country to help repair damages. And the investigation into Commissioner James Gordon's role in the Harvey Dent cover-up was officially postponed, because the city needed his leadership more than ever.

In the days following liberation, it was revealed that the tyrant Bane had not been his own boss. He had a superior — a vengeful woman who had deceived Gotham in the disguise of beautiful philanthropist Miranda Tate. It was revealed that she was the daughter of the warlord Ra's al Ghul, an enemy of the Batman who had also failed to destroy Gotham, and lost his life in the process. His duplicitous daughter was also killed while attempting to ensure the bomb's detonation. Witnesses claimed that both Bane and his lieutenant, Barsad, were killed during the battle of City Hall. Amongst the bodies it was difficult to tell who was who, since mercenaries carried no identification. Of the men taken alive, one of them gleefully informed the authorities that no matter what his fate, Bane had ordered this particular man to destroy his mask should the tide turn against them. He claimed to have done so, blasting the mask to pieces with an AK-47 and sinking them into the harbour. "You will never know for certain if he's out there...waiting to strike again." The mercenary taunted.

The police assumed that Bane and Barsad were both dead.

__________

Gotham City - Two months after liberation

Juliet charged through the back door of her red brick townhouse in Gotham's Corktown neighbourhood. She had just spent three hours waiting in line at Eden Market. She told herself to be patient, that everyone in Gotham was in the same boat, but on some days she couldn't help but feel frustrated. Would the city ever return to normal?

Once inside, she threw the deadbolt on the back door and sighed dejectedly, taking off her shoes and entering the laundry room.

If she didn't find a job soon, she'd have to rent out the downstairs apartment, and she didn't relish becoming a landlord. The separate apartment was the reason why she originally purchased the house. It was completely finished, and in addition to a living area and a large bedroom, there was a full kitchen behind the bar.

Jeffrey called it 'the man-cave' and liked to have his friends down for beer, burgers and hockey, but for Juliet the apartment had been the best place from which to launch her catering business.

Switching on the stairwell lights in the laundry room, she opened the pocket door that lead to the apartment, and hauled six grocery bags down the stairs. Behind the bar, she stocked the refrigerator first, before rising up on her toes to push the boxed items into cupboards.

A curious sense of unease began to creep over her somewhere between a box of rice and a bag of oatmeal. Suddenly, she had the feeling that she wasn't alone, and there was an unfamiliar scent…

Stiffening, she slowly turned her head to the right, cautiously peering into the dark living space. And then she felt it — a blast of hot breath on the back of her neck.

"Mmmmhhh!

A hand reeking of tobacco covered her mouth, and she was aware of being forcibly bent over the sink.

"That's it. Just be quiet now." An ominous voice ordered quietly.

Terrorized, Juliet stopped struggling, and the hand fell away from her mouth. Cold metal pressed against the back of her neck.

The low voice sounded again in her ear. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Juliet Grace Marchand. The name is John — John Barsad."

Failing to register a name that had been in the newspapers every day for the last two months, Juliet gasped in panic.

"L-let me g-go!" She whispered, barely able to force the words through shallow breaths. "Wh-whatever you want… just t-take my p-purse and go!"

The man pressed his pistol even deeper. "We don't need your purse, darlin'. We need a safe place to chill for a while."

We. He wasn't alone.

"W-who are you?" Juliet pleaded. In her panic, she'd forgotten his name, and she was beginning to ache from the uncomfortable position forced upon her. "Please d-don't do this…" She whimpered.

The man with the hot breath grinned, turning to look at the silent figure waiting in the darkness at the far side of the room. "Please don't do this!" he mocked her in an affected, high-pitched, voice. "Oh help! Somebody please help me!" His cruel taunt brought tears of vulnerability to Juliet's eyes. What was happening now was more frightening than anything she had experienced during the revolution.

"We are going to do this, sweetheart." He continued smugly. "There are three snipers out there with rifles trained on Jeff Sorrento — your fiancé, if I'm not mistaken? These men are excellent shots — not as good as me, mind you. But one of them will get the job done if necessary. We have Sorrento's daily routine down cold, and we have people planted at City Hall and GCPD. If you try anything smart, one of my guys will put a bullet in his brain. So much for lover boy's political career!" He hissed.

"No!" She squealed, struggling vainly against the strong grip around her waist. "Don't hurt him! I won't say anything, only please, please — don't hurt Jeffrey! He's never done anything to hurt you…" she babbled tearfully.

Barsad consulted his companion once more, registering a silent affirmation from the shadows.

"Alright." Barsad nodded approvingly, leaning over Juliet again. "That's a good girl. Now, here's how it's all going to go down. Don't worry, we're gonna to pay our own way while we're here, but you'll get the supplies we need whenever we need them. If I ask you to go out for aspirin at 2:30 a.m., you go. Brother is recovering from injuries. He needs rest and privacy above all. You stay out of the basement, and we won't bother you upstairs. Simple. Are we cool on all that?"

"Y-yes, yes… anything you ask…b-but…where is y-your brother?" she asked absurdly.

"Oh man!" Barsad leered as he glanced over at his hidden companion again, gripping Juliet's waist even tighter. "She's a cutie! I wish you'd let me — "

"That is quite enough, Brother!" A hoarse, irritable voice boomed from the darkness — an artificially enhanced voice that Juliet recognized in an instant.

Him.

"Release your hold on Miss Marchand and allow her to breathe. You are not a python." He growled.

In response, the man with the tobacco habit shrugged. Shoving his pistol into his pocket, he allowed Juliet to slip free from his grip.

She raised herself cautiously from the sink, instantly recognizing Barsad as she turned to look at him.

Of course — he was the man with the huge rifle who stood next to Bane that day at City Hall. Her thumb massaged the tense muscle in her lower back as her eyes sensed movement across the room.

Barsad reached above the counter to switch on another set of lights, and the masked mercenary was revealed, rising from his seat on the pull-out couch against the opposite wall. He groaned softly as he stood, and it was obvious he was experiencing some discomfort. Despite his infirmity, Juliet didn't fail to note that he was handsomely dressed in an expensive Belstaff jacket.

Her heart leapt as she absorbed the reality of the massive man hovering before her. Experiencing him in a public place was far different than facing him framed by the low ceiling of her basement.

He was alive, but he was a fallen man. He was just a common thug now, and a fugitive from justice who intended to hold her hostage in her own home. There would be no fantasizing, no replay of the crazy moment they once shared, no thoughts of what was meant to be. She'd put all of that aside with the reports of his death…hadn't she?

"And God said, Let there be light: and there was light...'" Barsad quoted a favourite passage from the Bible, something he often did to intimidate his victims.

Even in the low light, the woman was as beautiful as Bane remembered. Now he knew the sweet sound of her voice. Their moment at City Hall had been pure, but it had also been a moment of sheer folly on his part. He wasn't a romantic man. Even if he were, much had changed since Gotham. Failure, grief, and betrayal were his obsessions now…

"I regret my lieutenant's appalling behavior toward you, Miss Marchand." His words were gentlemanly and determined. "He has apparently forgotten his manners." Bane then projected a lethal stare in the direction of the over-zealous second-in-command.

"You have my word that it won't happen again."


	2. Chapter 2

Wake Up and Live

by batmanbane

 

Chapter 2

Bane sat at the edge of his single bed, elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the beam of light filtering down through the blinds of the basement window. Dawn was breaking, and he'd barely slept.

"Another sleepless night?" Barsad asked, as his figure crossed the doorway of the tiny bedroom. "I guess it's the change in hideouts." He sighed, making conversation. "I however, slept like a baby on that pull-out couch. This place is a lot more humble than that godawful roman villa we just escaped from."

Bane turned, acknowledging Barsad's presence.

"Agreed. Bertolini's home was revolting." He grunted miserably.

It wasn't the change of locale that had kept him awake most of the night. Bane had been subject to low periods ever since the last day in Gotham, and soul searching filled his many sleepless hours.

"You got things on your mind again…" Barsad told him sternly. "You know, mourning is good, Brother. It gives you perspective. But at some point, it's necessary to move on. Your body isn't healing very well because you also have a broken heart."

The mercenary smiled beneath his mask and allowed himself a sigh. If he'd learned anything post-Gotham, it was that his second-in-command was capable of immeasurable kindness, and one day he hoped to have the opportunity to return the favour.

Barsad had only suffered a flesh wound at the battle of City Hall. But thanks to the handiwork of Selina Kyle, Bane suffered blunt force trauma, a collapsed lung, broken ribs, and a dislocated shoulder.

All eyes were on the bomb as it detonated over the bay, and as the city absorbed the shock of the Batman's death, Bane and Barsad escaped from City Hall to the garish suburban mansion of John Daggett's biggest business rival, a man who was only too happy to court Bane's favour by offering him sanctuary. Barsad loyally stood by during Bane's slow recovery. But both mercenaries were mindful of the dangers of staying in one place too long. As soon as Bane was able to walk, they moved on in a vehicle supplied by Fredo Bertolini. All of Gotham's exit points had been under guard since Bane's defeat, and served up many of his men to the authorities. But Bane and Barsad knew that patience would be rewarded, and that sooner or later they would slip out of the city undetected.

For now, they had forced themselves into the home of Juliet Marchand, threatening her fiancé to maintain her silence.

"We never discussed dying, Barsad." Bane said abruptly as Barsad sat down next to him. "That wasn't part of the plan. Why did she not tell me? Why did she leave me to die with my enemy?" They were just two of the questions he'd struggled with since the last day in Gotham.

"We've been over this before, Bane." The sniper scolded. "Her desire for revenge made her unstable. I don't think she intentionally tried to deceive you. If she knew how you felt right now, she'd hate herself. You know that don't you? I mean — this is Talia we're talking about. The little girl you rescued in the Pit. She loved you."

"She climbed out on her own initiative." Bane said wistfully. "She never needed me for that. She only needed a boost. Without her I feel incomplete, as though I have lost a limb." He stared helplessly at his second-in-command.

"She was one in a million, that's for sure." Barsad felt the need to place a reassuring hand on Bane's shoulder, but resisted because he knew that Bane had only ever allowed Talia to touch him.

"And yet, I feel betrayed." Bane admitted. "I never abandoned her, Brother. I have endured chronic pain and addiction all of my adult life, because I refused to abandon her. Still, she abandoned me at City Hall."

"I know she did." Barsad shook his head sadly. "You're gonna get through these troubles Bane, and when you do, you'll recognize this time as a gift that made you stronger."

Bane nodded as he slipped between the sheets. "I hope you are right, old friend." Talking things out with his lieutenant never failed to settle him and now he felt certain that sleep was finally upon him.

"Tell you what…" Barsad said, deliberately changing the subject. "I'll make you breakfast when you wake. After that, we'll get busy securing this place. And we'll need to have another chat with the sweet thing upstairs. Lots to do, so get some shut-eye. I'll wake you at zero ten hundred." He tossed Bane's beloved multi-coloured blanket over top of the mercenary's prone form.

"Thank you for your companionship, Brother." Bane rumbled, opening one disapproving eye before completely submitting to slumber. "You will behave yourself in the presence of our hostess today."

"Sure thing, Boss." Barsad promised soberly. He was deeply worried about Bane's emotional state, and heartily sick of repeating the same lie — the one that neither one of them believed.

"Goddam witch!" He whispered, cursing the dead woman who had reduced his commander to a mass of neurotic doubts and insecurities.

Juliet spent a terrifying and lonely night adjusting to the reality that two fugitives had taken over her home, threatening to kill her ex-fiancé should she give them away.

After John Barsad pushed her out of the basement with a grim warning, she purposely left the kitchen lights switched on, and pulled the blinds on every window in the house. It took all of her self-control to keep from charging out the front door of her home and asking for help. Only the image of Jeff Sorrento's bullet-riddled body stopped her.

Once inside her bedroom on the second floor, she jammed a wooden chair under the doorknob to block entry into her room. It was a poor defence, given that a single wooden chair wouldn't stop a large man like Bane, not to mention his obnoxious little pit bull. For most of the night, she stared at the bedroom door until she could no longer keep her eyes open.

Sometime after sunrise, she fell asleep, fully clothed in the casual dress and jacket she'd worn the day before. She awoke hours later, her body curled up in a ball on top of her duvet. She'd slept half the morning away, but at least she had finally managed to get some rest. She opened her eyes when she heard the sound running water downstairs, and her heart sank.

What happened wasn't a dream. There were two men in her basement, making themselves at home.

She locked herself in the bathroom, quickly showering, and dressing in jeans and a long-sleeved tee shirt. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she haphazardly braided her wet hair down her back. Silently she crept downstairs, terrified of what she'd find.

As she entered the kitchen, she heard the squeaking sound of the pocket door. She peered into the laundry room in fearful anticipation, expecting to see one of the fugitives. Instead, her cat squeezed determinedly through the narrow gap and meowed loudly at the sight of a familiar face. Reluctantly, Juliet entered the laundry room to refill Stripe's food and water, and noticed that whoever had opened the door hadn't bothered to close it again.

It seemed the mercenaries understood that Stripe had the run of the house, and had left the pocket door ajar so that he could come and go at will.

Juliet scooped up the year-old grey tabby and hugged him tightly. "You be careful down there." She whispered. "They're very bad men." Stripe squirmed out of her arms and leapt to the floor, headed for his bowl.

Hastily, she hovered and stole a glance through the partially opened door.

She saw no movement, and was about to turn away when she detected a delicious aroma from the downstairs kitchen, and she wondered which one of them was the cook.

Obviously they had helped themselves to her food and were enjoying breakfast. Damn them.

She opened her own fridge, where there was a minimum of foodstuffs, and all the frozen, single serving meals she had meticulously prepared in advance to carry her through food shortages. She realized she was going to have to make another trip to Eden Market, because there was no way she was going to ask the mercenaries for access to the food downstairs.

"Damn them!" This time she swore out loud.

Even though she felt slightly nauseous and too stressed to eat, she washed down a hastily prepared asparagus omelet with a cup of green tea. As she rinsed the dishes in the sink, she heard the sound of an approaching vehicle, and her heart sank as Jeff Sorrento's familiar black Nissan Murano came to a halt in her driveway.

Of all the people who could possibly drop by, it had to be Jeff...

"Damn it, Jules! Why do you have to be so stubborn?" Even-tempered Jeff Sorrento pounded his fist in frustration on the kitchen counter, accidently sending a heavy ceramic platter to the floor, where it smashed into several pieces.

He and Juliet were having the same argument they'd had since she'd broken up with him three weeks previously. He wanted to get back together; she didn't. Jeff was still so determined that he didn't seem to notice her nervous distraction.

"Oh shit!" He said, instantly regretting his actions. "I'm sorry, Jules!" He apologized as he squatted to pick the pieces up from the floor. "I honestly didn't mean for that to happen.

"Oh no!" She gasped in terror, fully expecting John Barsad to come bursting through the door to shoot them both.

"It's not the end of the world, Jules! I'll get you another one." He promised, misunderstanding her reaction.

Her breathing gradually returned to normal when it became apparent that no one was coming upstairs. The sandy-haired city councillor was occupied with picking up ceramic pieces and still hadn't noticed her odd behaviour, or her fixation on the laundry room.

"Now that we're on the subject — don't you see? When you get your business up and running again, you'll have a lot more space to run it from my place." He offered persuasively. "Things don't fall off the counter all the time like they do in this house." It was typical of Jeff's thought process to believe that a larger home would bring them back together.

"No! Jeff, it's been three weeks. You have to start processing our breakup. We're not getting married. We're not getting back together. Now, if you're going to run for mayor, just get on with it."

"But I need you with me."

"Tell that to your next fiancé." She winced even as she spoke, because she hated hurting him. Tough love was the only way to handle Jeff's apparent inability to grasp reality.

He sighed, looking at her with the same hangdog expression that had become very familiar to her in the last few weeks.

"But I always thought I'd marry you." He said quietly. "Come on, Jules. If I'm not the love of your life, at least we're comfortable together, aren't we? I can make you happy."

Juliet could feel the tears rising. She did love him. He was a wonderful person… and a dear friend. But…there was something missing in their relationship that could never be fixed by making it legal.

She tossed his jacket at him and pushed him toward the back door. "Off you go!" She said hastily. "I have things to do, but before you leave, I want you to return the keys to my house and my car."

"Suit yourself!" Jeff said. "But remember, you're almost 30 years old. You're not going to have many more opportunities like the one I'm offering." He dug into his pockets and dropped the appropriate keys into the palm of her hand.

"Chauvinism doesn't suit you." She frowned. "I told you I'm a changed woman. I — I don't want to settle for something because it's convenient. I want the real thing.

"But we make a great team, Jules! Between us and the good people of Gotham, we can't lose!"

"For God's sake — we came so close to dying two months ago! We weren't even sure we'd live to have a wedding! Gotham's salvation was a wake-up call for me! The Batman gave us a second chance! I want to work on myself…be a better person. If I ever decide to get married, it's not going to be a strategic chess move."

How could she ever explain the whole truth when even she couldn't understand it? The mercenary who held the city hostage for five months — the one who was hiding in her basement now — had looked into her eyes and planted the seeds of discontent.

"You know what I think? I think this is all his doing!" Jeff charged, closer to the truth than he realized. "You fell for that masked asshole's baloney about the liars and the corrupt, the oppressors of generations, true justice and the people… You ran your own business from your home in a working class neighbourhood, yet he had you questioning your values and made you feel guilty when you had no reason to feel that way." he ranted. "Next thing you know, I was too fancy for you!"

She cringed, very aware that the mercenaries were getting an earful of her private life. "You're not too fancy for me!" she assured him. "I'm so sorry Jeff. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. But it's just as I said — I love you, but I'm not in love with you."

"You know what?" Jeff ranted. "Bane has to be held accountable for a lot more than just destroying Gotham, because as far as I'm concerned, he broke us up!"

With those words he rushed out the back door and headed for the driveway, unlocking his vehicle with the remote.

An agitated Juliet followed closely behind. "For cripes' sake, Jeff! Keep your voice down or the neighbours will hear! All I ever said was that some of his ideas were valid in principle!"

"Jules, I'm hurt. I'm insulted. But I still have faith that you'll come to your senses." He said as he jumped into the Nissan.

Juliet squeezed his hand tightly, mindful of Barsad's threat to his life.

"I want you to be very careful out there! Gotham is still a dangerous place, and I don't want anything to happen to you…"

Jeff rolled his eyes and started the engine. "She loves me, she loves me not." He muttered.

Bane and Barsad stood on either side of the basement stairs with weapons poised, staring intently at the pocket door. Barsad shoved his pistol into his pocket, once the vehicle in the driveway had pulled away. They nodded at one another, pleased that the woman had rid herself of her fiancé without giving them away.

"You were right, Bane!" Barsad exclaimed. "I think we can trust her. She has strength of character! You better get upstairs and make nice with her, because she could be ready to crack at any time! Even without the stress of two mercenaries hiding out in her basement, that was a pretty intense conversation she just had with the boyfriend."

"I quite agree, Brother." Bane said pensively, passing his pistol to Barsad for safekeeping. "For our own protection, we should monitor her mindset, and remind her of her duty to us while we remain in her home."

Privately, Bane couldn't deny his own curiosity, given the content of the conversation he and Barsad had just overheard.

"You're the boss. I leave it your hands." Barsad grinned as he settled down at the bar with a copy of the Gotham Gazette. There was a reason Bane had ordered him to investigate Juliet Marchand, and there was a reason why he decided that they should seek refuge in her home. The masked mercenary was drawn to her, whether or not he wanted to be, and Barsad hoped it would be good medicine for him to commune with a woman who was not Talia.

"Up you go, Lancelot." The sniper said cheerfully.

Bane groaned as he painfully took the stairs one by one, hoping his physical stamina would hold out. His mood had greatly improved, and he was feeling much stronger thanks to a few solid hours of sleep and a big breakfast. Now he looked forward to exercising his authority, but he told himself to remain guarded.

He had once been the invincible ruler of a fallen city, but his City Hall encounter with the woman upstairs had revealed a breach in his armour. At the time, he believed she had the potential to wield great power over him.

Now, he wasn't so sure. Time had likely taken care of their initial attraction, and even so, he was not a romantic man, and had far too much on his mind to be preoccupied by a woman. Even as he grieved the loss of Talia, he was troubled by her final goodbye. And then there was the personal humiliation he felt at having been defeated by Bruce. He had so much to work out in his mind...

He was only in Juliet Marchand's home now because he'd learned a great deal about her from the intelligence Barsad had gathered, and after their defeat in Gotham, they determined that her brick townhouse was the ideal sanctuary.

He remembered how he had tried to speak to her on the steps of City Hall, when he had nearly stuttered like fool. But now he had business to discuss, which would ensure that he maintained the upper hand. He would forget the small talk and be the only kind of man he knew how to be.

It was time to take control.

Slipping soundlessly through the pocket door, he startled her with his sudden presence.

Juliet yelped sharply and slammed backwards against the kitchen counter, gripping a mixing bowl against her chest. Bane was plainly visible in the laundry room from where she stood.

He was dressed casually in a black knit shirt, which clung to every contour and muscle of his chest and arms as if it had been molded there.

"Oh my!" She mouthed silently, taking in his magnificent body even as she reminded herself that he was a remorseless killer.

He strolled casually into her kitchen, his brow furrowing as his eyes bore into hers. Bane stared her up and down thoroughly, reacquainting himself with her moss-coloured eyes, pale complexion and dark lashes.

"Wh — what do you want?" She asked meekly, feeling completely naked.

Bane didn't answer. Instead, he settled at a safe distance opposite her on the other side of the dishwasher. Without taking his eyes off hers, he lifted the appliance's open door to its closed position. In doing so, he eliminated the only barrier between them.

She pressed even tighter against the counter, and thought about smashing the bowl she held over his head.

Bane's male pride swelled. Her fear was appealing, and his fingers twitched eagerly in approval. The only sound in the room came from the unsteady wheeze of his mask.

As if to read her mind, he reached over and snatched the bowl from her fingers, placing it far from her immediate reach.

Now that she was completely defenceless, it was time to talk. He remembered something her ex-fiancé had said to her that morning, and this time he was not at a loss for words.

"A 30 year-old rose is not easy to pick, for it has grown many thorns." He rumbled thoughtfully.

Juliet's skin flooded with much needed colour. The few words he had spoken to her last night were gentlemanly, but now she was completely taken aback by his easy familiarity.

"And what — what would you know about that?" She whispered incredulously.

"I know what I heard." He spoke in a lazy, enhanced rasp that was less bombastic than the voice he used for speeches.

"Your conversation with Mr. Sorrento was very enlightening. You are a hard woman, my dear, and I am almost sorry for the man. You emasculated him just now — sent him away with his tail between his legs."

His tone was nothing if not friendly, and Juliet was left speechless by the intimacy of his remarks.

"I have been accused of many crimes throughout my career, but never of being 'the other man'." He continued, further unnerving her with his softer tones and penetrating stare.

"Have I interfered in your personal life, Miss Marchand?" Bane's dark eyes shone in gleeful anticipation of her answer. While he had ruled the city he had privately mocked the ties of family and tradition, even as he played up to them in public. If it was true that his path of destruction had reached all the way to the sacred bond between a man and a woman, then it was an ego boost he sorely needed.

Juliet blinked anxiously, unsure of how to answer. "I — think you're mistaken."

"Am I? Bane asked playfully. "I am inclined to believe Mr. Sorrento. After all, he is the one who has been hurt. You rejected him, and he believes he knows the reason why."

"I — don't understand…" She gasped indignantly. "Why are you so interested?"

He inched closer and closer to her, as his expression changed. His eyes were no longer laughing, and they narrowed as he dropped the playful manner and became all business. As always, there was a method to his madness.

"Because… it is a terrible thing to break a man's heart!" He told her judgmentally. His mask wheezed unevenly, heightening the tension already in the room. His agitated fingers twitched so relentlessly, that Juliet was certain he was either going to strangle her, or grope her. She held her breath, meeting Bane's relentless stare until he spoke again.

"My lieutenant and I appreciate the hasty dispatch of Mr. Sorrento, and we require your further cooperation should you receive any more visitors or gentleman callers while we remain in your home."

Juliet licked her dry lips. "I didn't do it for you or your lieutenant. I just wanted Jeff away from you! What's to stop you from killing him here, whether or not I keep silent? What's to stop you from killing me?"

"Your point is well taken, Miss Marchand." Bane nodded, considering her words. "Now, Mr. Sorrento entered your home this morning without first knocking. Who else enjoys that privilege?"

When she didn't answer, Bane spoke again.

"It seems you understand that my lieutenant and I cannot risk discovery. It was a strategic decision on your part to request the return of your keys."

"Again, I didn't do it for you!" Juliet insisted. "Jeff is the one in danger, not you and your friend."

"I asked you a question…I will not ask twice!" He warned her in a dangerously low tone.

She flinched, once again remembering the horrific sight of Dr. Pavel's death on live television.

"Jeff had the only other key." She confessed unhappily.

"Thank you!" He said lightly.

"Thank you?" She mocked. "I could get life imprisonment for hiding you people. You've put me in an impossible situation. I told you last night I'd keep your secret, but you're not the only one with conditions. You're here whether I like it or not, but I'll thank you to stay out of my personal affairs!"

The words spilled from her, and even as she spoke, she deeply regretted them.

But Bane was only roused by her anger and the boldness of her words.

This was what he needed — the applications of intimidation, domination and fear. They were as essential to his well-being as the mask, and they had returned to him via the most unlikely of sources — the woman who once threatened to demolish the wall he'd constructed around himself.

He was in control, not she. Her beauty had not unsettled him this time, and his susceptibility to her had surely been tempered by her blunt personality.

Against his better instincts, he took another intimidating step towards her. She in turn pressed her hand against his chest to stop his advance.

"Don't!" She cautioned him, alarmed by his approach.

Hers was a soft touch. Her fingertips grazed his abdominals leisurely, and the resulting sensation travelled to the tips of his nerve endings. The feeling was similar to the onset of the pain he experienced when he removed the mask.

Except that he did not feel pain now. He felt pleasure.

The startled mercenary blinked uneasily, frowning when he couldn't control the sudden rise in his body temperature. It was possible that he had overplayed his hand, so it was time to leave.

"You will remember what I told you. Dispatch your visitors as quickly as possible or there will be consequences. Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Marchand." He turned his back on her and made to leave.

But it was too late, Juliet had seen it — something akin to vulnerability reflected in his eyes.

He mastered the noisy pocket door, and was about to disappear behind it when he heard her voice.

"Bane?"

The masked mercenary could, and should have ignored her. Instead, he met her curious green gaze and suppressed smile.

"Call me Juliet."


	3. Chapter 3

Wake Up and Live

by batmanbane

 

Chapter 3

An intense wave of nausea woke Bane from his sporadic slumber, and he opened his eyes to the dim, sparsely furnished room. He was barefoot, dressed in an unflattering orange one-piece and slumped at a utilitarian table, his wrists and ankles secured with metal cuffs.

There was a bucket at his feet, but he refused to suffer the indignity of vomitting. He fought back against the urge, swallowing hard as his mouth watered and his stomach lurched. When the squirming knot in his belly finally relaxed, he lifted his head to take note of his surroundings.

It was all such a cliché, he mused cynically through the pain. The spartan room with the bald lightbulb, and the two-way mirror next to the door...

"I know you are there. It is useless to conceal yourself." His pained voice addressed the mirror.

He had determined that he was at police headquarters, but he had yet to be interrogated. The room was so cold he could see his breath, and he was thankful that the cold temperature provided a distraction away from his pain.

"You're awake..." A cheerful voice greeted him from the other side of the mirror. In the next moment, the man belonging to the voice pushed the door open and entered the room, carrying the pain-killing mask that Bane so desperately needed. He set it on the table, and carefully examined the ailing mercenary.

"...and you're a sight for sore eyes!" Bruce Wayne's eyes travelled to the stains of yellow, purple and black bruises travelling along the skin above the collar of his scrubs. "It's lucky Ms. Kyle set the cannons on stun, or you and I wouldn't be talking now."

Stoically, Bane turned his pained expression on the man who had apparently defeated him. If Bruce expected him to beg for the mask, he was sorely mistaken.

"I wasn't aware that we were talking." Bane's unmasked voice was raw with pain and the chill of the room. Why was Bruce interrogating him? Where was James Gordon?

"We are talking, Bane." Bruce insisted. "You may as well tell us everything now, because you have nothing to lose now that Talia is dead."

The playboy's claim shattered Bane in an instant, but he remained outwardly calm.

"You will never secure the truth from me with a lie." He countered irritably, even as his heart pounded in dread of Talia's fate.

Bruce stared grimly for about 15 seconds, and then spoke again in a very low voice.

"After she left us, she commandeered the truck carrying the bomb. There was a high speed chase, and a fatal accident. I'm sorry, Bane."

A meaningful silence hung between the two men. Even though Bruce was his enemy, Bane knew in his heart that he was not a man given to lies and deception.

Bane's emotions gave way, and an anguished cry escaped his throat. His body shook, and he expedited his grief in series of quiet sobs, only too aware of Bruce's careful scrutiny. He closed his wet eyes momentarily, and when they opened again they were filled with hate for the man who stood before him.

"I blame you." He said, the tone of his voice rising at the end of his sentence.

"Fine." Bruce sighed resignedly. "Look, if it's any comfort, she didn't suffer at all. She went peacefully, believing that her father's work was complete." Bruce's voice was gentle. "I thought you'd want to know that."

The fallen mercenary raised his trembling, shackled hands in order to wipe away the hot tears from his cheeks.

"No matter. She is immortal!" He stated proudly.

Bruce reached over and squeezed Bane's shoulder sympathetically, then took a seat on the opposite side of the table, clasping his hands together as if in preparation for a long conversation.

Once he had settled in his chair, Bruce's caring demeanour eerily morphed into a cruel grin. Bane thought he knew the ex-billionaire well, but now there was something very unfamiliar about him, as if the devil had just entered his body.

"That was a very interesting scene back there at City Hall. Between you and Talia, I mean. The queen and her devoted manservant! I know you probably didn't much care for the servant part of the relationship. It's understandable that you only wanted to be her man."

"You know nothing!" Bane spat, though Bruce's words stung almost as much as the pain in his back.

"She fooled us both, didn't she?" Bruce smirked.

Bane looked away stubbornly, refusing to answer as the other man continued to speak.

"I'll admit, I've been dumped by women before, but never quite the way I was dumped at City Hall. I didn't know her very well, but she was quite the temptation. Once a man gets a grip on a pair of creamy breasts and silken hair, he's caught in a web. You know what I'm talking about, don't you, Bane?" He taunted.

Anger trumped grief, and Bane lurched wildly in his chair. He knew nothing of the sort, a fact of which Bruce was plainly aware. Talia al Ghul was the mistress of broken promises, thus Bane had always been one mission away from sharing her bed, only to be thwarted when yet another 'urgent' task required his attention.

The truth dawned on him in the last moments inside City Hall, when she'd called him 'friend'. She never loved him the way he loved her, and never intended to bed him.

"I was naive. But what's your excuse?" Bruce mocked. "You knew her better than anyone, yet when she walked out of City Hall you were as shocked and bewildered as I was."

Bane growled as he struggled violently in his chair, desperate to snap the neck of the man seated opposite.

"Look at you! Turns out you're a handsome guy under the mask. You could have had your pick of the ladies. Instead, you bet all your chips on her...and you lost!" As if to emphasize his point, Bruce pounded the mask with his fist. Like bone china, it shattered into several pieces.

Glaring at Bruce, Bane found the appropriate words.

"Uncharacteristic cruelty from the high-minded Mr. Wayne!" He croaked as jovially as he could manage. "You have learned my lessons well. I broke you once, and I will break you again. I am the League of Shadows!"

But the man across the table had disappeared, and in his place sat a far more authoritative and judgemental figure - the man who had excommunicated Bane.

"You fool!" Ra's al Ghul observed coldly. "Have you not yet learned that you are nothing without my daughter?"

Bane leapt to his feet, snarling like an angry tiger. His sudden movement jerked the short chain that linked his cuffed ankles together, sending the heavy mercenary flying into the air. The table overturned, the broken mask scattered, and Bane crash-landed to the floor. He tried to scream but no sound would come, nor was he able to lift his heavy limbs. The room collapsed around him and he felt himself being pulled down into the floor. He was sinking in quicksand, drowning in the sea. He was a dying man...

Juliet dragged two boxes of groceries through the back entrance of her house, having just spent three hours in Eden Market. Two months after liberation, food shortages continued to be a reality. There were long line-ups everywhere, and markets and big grocery chains were finding it hard to keep the shelves stocked. She'd left the house with a huge shopping list and wad of bills from Barsad, who had also coldly reminded her that his snipers knew where to find her ex-fiancé Jeffrey Sorrento at any time during the day, in the event she was tempted to turn in the mercenaries while she was out.

She'd purchased a few things for herself while she was at the market, and as she sorted out the items in her kitchen, she suddenly heard the sounds of shouting and struggling from below. Charging down the stairs, she expected to find Bane and Barsad fighting...

Instead, she found Barsad at Bane's bedside, shaking the masked man and struggling to wake him.

"Wake up, Brother! It's time to snap out of it!"

"What's wrong with him?" Juliet shouted as she pressed the palm of her hand against Bane's hot, thrashing forehead. The mercenary's nude, sweat soaked body sprang out of his bedsheets, and his panicked eyes flew open to find both Barsad and Juliet hovering above him.

"Get back upstairs, Duchess!" Barsad ordered. "I got this under control. Mind your own business or I'll shoot you!"

She should have been frightened, but after spending three hours at the market doing his bidding, his threat only served to ignite her anger. In retaliation, she shoved him hard against the nearby wall.

"Now you listen to me, Squirt! Stop ordering me around! I have a right to know when a man is having a breakdown in my own house!"

Raising his hands in defeat, the shocked sniper backed down immediately. "Whoa, take it easy, Doll! I mean no harm. I'm just trying to wake him from a nightmare, and you're in the way."

"Nightmare? This is post traumatic stress disorder!" She cried angrily.

"Look, Juliet...will you just go back upstairs?" Barsad pleaded, much more politely this time. "Give him privacy. I'll let you know when you can help, okay? Deal?"

But the unemployed caterer wasn't going to back down easily, and directed her angry green gaze squarely at Barsad.

"What is wrong with him?" She demanded a second time.

Before another word could be spoken, Bane's voice, hoarse with sleep, sounded from behind them.

"Stop your squabbling!"

They both jumped at the sound of his voice, as the mercenary turned to address Juliet.

"Leave us!" He commanded.

Returning to her kitchen, Juliet dumped a stack of aging newspapers on the dining table and began sorting through them. Far from being offended by Bane's dismissal of her, she saw it as an opportunity to investigate him further. She had kept the newspapers as souvenirs of the revolution, and now she poured through them, trying to assemble a different picture of the man who had brought Gotham to its knees. There was no question that he was the cruel terrorist who had torn her city apart, and it was true that she had chosen to see him as a romantic figure, but after witnessing his reaction to a nightmare, she suspected he might be a very haunted man, and she was curious to know the reason why.

She reacquainted herself with the first week of news following liberation, when new details were uncovered every hour by a ravenous media. She re-read news reports of the link to an unsuccessful attack by the warlord Ra's al Ghul; of the ancient terrorist group known as 'The League of Shadows'; and of the masked mercenary's origins in 'hell on earth'. The media exploded when it quickly uncovered a fascinating irony: that the mercenary who had so terrified Gotham hadn't actually been in charge. All along he had a superior officer - the beautiful daughter of Ra's al Ghul, who had come to Gotham to complete her father's work.

Macho media outlets had a field day with the discovery. Juliet recalled listening to a sports radio program where the hosts and their callers heckled Bane mercilessly, calling him a pussy who took orders from a hot woman. The reaction was much the same in print. She flipped to the notorious local tabloid, The Gotham Gazette, which had run regular, stinging cartoon commentary since liberation day. The edition she held in her hands featured a giant-sized depiction of Talia al Ghul as a puppeteer manipulating a miniature Bane, whose doll-like body dangled helplessly from the strings tied to her fingers.

Juliet was so caught up in the meaning of the cartoon that she didn't hear Bane slip through the pocket door and enter her kitchen. At the first wheeze of his mask, she jumped out of her chair.

"Ooops!" She gasped guiltily. She tried to hide the newspaper behind her back, but Bane snatched it from her hands, and she held her breath as she watched his penetrating frown take in the cartoon.

Bane's first instinct was to sneer contemptuously at the cartoon's inaccuracy.

After all, he and his men had laboured for years, risking their lives to prepare for Gotham. He had naturally assumed lead on the Pavel mission, because only a man of his menace could have possibly pulled off such an outrageous kidnapping. He had lived and worked in the cold sewers of Gotham for months while overseeing the pouring of concrete explosives. And he had delivered an inspirational speech at the site of Blackgate prison, raising an army from the so-called good people of Gotham.

He was not and never had been, a puppet. He was a born leader, and he needed no woman to supervise him.

Had Talia really played him for a fool all those years? Or was Barsad correct in assuming that her desire for revenge blinded her to the hurt she caused him?

His eyes misted over as he relived his last moments with her at City Hall, and he considered a third option.

It wasn't Talia who was at fault. He had allowed her to take the lead, when he should have behaved like a man and established his dominance. Instead, he had acted like a lovesick fool who never dared risk alienating her, because of the foolish hope that she might one day take him as her lover.

The truth washed over him, and Bane cursed his human frailty.

The editorial cartoon was valid commentary. Talia had made him the laughing stock of Gotham City, and all with his permission.

Juliet watched the storm play out in Bane's eyes until she could no longer bear it, and she made an unsuccessful attempt to pull the newspaper out of his hands. "Don't pay any attention to that. It's a trashy tabloid..."

"Indeed, it is nonsense!" Bane pronounced coldly.

Remembering his injuries, Juliet indicated the chair opposite her. "Maybe you should take a seat." She suggested.

She wondered if he might address the incident downstairs, or apologize for his nudity, but he said nothing, staring so intently that Juliet felt like a meal placed in front of a starving man. Despite her discomfort, she was determined not to cower like a shrinking violet. After all, she had too much information on him now. Clearly, the editorial cartoon had bothered him, and it was likely that nightmares were a regular occurrence with him. If Bane had demons, then they served to make him even more attractive. Juliet had promised herself that there would be no more romantic thoughts about him, but once again she envisioned herself as being the only woman who could save him from himself.

And then there was one very important detail. She'd seen that part of him that peeked out from his sheets as Barsad tried to wake him. The one that was now safely tucked away behind the zipper of his cargo pants.

"Well then, I'll take a seat if you don't mind." She smiled as she raised herself to sit on the kitchen counter in order to address the tall mercenary at eye level.

"That was...quite a nightmare. Do you have them often?"

Bane tossed the newspaper aside, and his arms fell to his sides in an offensive maneuver. His nervous energy was more intense than usual, and his fingers twitched maniacally. The woman had seen his body - all of it - and yet now she boldly looked him in the eye with hardly a blush, and asked him about the damned nightmare.

His brow furrowed in fascination. He was not given to blushing either. Despite the scars and bruises, he was extremely proud of his physique - every inch of it. And he was proud of the restraint he'd practiced as well. Unlike his promiscuous second-in-command, Bane had never given his body freely. He'd had the odd woman when he could not avoid the interference and influence of his men, but he'd always saved the best of himself for Talia.

Now the daughter of Ra's al Ghul was gone, and he found himself taking refuge in the home of a woman for whom he felt an undeniable attraction. He had thought the attraction was temporary, but before he knew it, he had convinced Barsad that her home was the perfect place to hide them while they waited for safe passage out of the city.

He had even considered the possibility that Juliet Marchand might be an enchantress sent by the city to bewitch and destroy him. Now he knew with certainty that although she was brazenly curious, she bore him no malice. He hadn't failed to notice her concern for him as he woke from his nightmare.

Bane's reverie was interrupted by the soft sound of her voice again.

"How about I ask a less controversial question, then?"

A soft, muffled sound of confusion projected from Bane's mask. His League training had never prepared him for making casual conversation with an attractive woman. It had only encouraged abstinence, even though it's hypocritical leader had once secretly married and spawned a child.

"How is it a man who was born in prison - in a hole in the ground - speaks like the lord of the manor?"

An unexpected smile tugged at Bane's scarred lips beneath the mask. She had asked a fair question...

His twitching fingers returned to the safety of his lapels, and he affected a casual yet commanding stance within the small space of her kitchen. The League was a subject about which he could easily make conversation.

"Training with the League of Shadows is transformative." He explained authoritatively. "We are educated to be elite soldiers, scholars and gentlemen — citizens of the world." The mercenary's chest rose with obvious pride in his own accomplishments.

"Well, how about that?" Juliet gushed. "I'll bet you even know how to use a soup spoon properly."

Bane blinked, having not expected such familiarity from her. He should have been irritated by her casual behaviour, but his fascination held sway.

"I do indeed." He answered, uncertain as to where the conversation was headed. "You do not?"

"I do, but I don't always use it correctly, and that's deliberate. I think most people are the same way. I never want to come off as being highbrow. Like you, I think of myself as one of the people."

He suspected that her comment was meant to provoke him, but truthfully, it didn't bother him nearly as much as The Gotham Gazette's political cartoon.

"I have no desire to occupy your time." Bane stated, bizarrely changing the subject. "I am only here to assure you that you need not fear Barsad. His bark is far worse than his bite."

"Really? He threatened to kill me a few hours ago, never mind his previous threats to my ex-fiancé!"

"But he will not kill you." Bane insisted. "I have been very transparent on the subject of your safety. He understands that he cannot touch you."

Juliet shrugged. "Actually, I'm far more scared of my future, thanks to you. You do know that you destroyed my livelihood, Bane? I used to run my catering business from here, but when you hit town and tossed my clients out of their homes, business dried up. There wasn't exactly a huge demand for caterers during your reign. No birthdays, no wedding showers, no celebrations of any kind. And even if there had been, you made it difficult to get food supplies."

Unfazed by her criticism, Bane spoke. "You will learn to survive, and you will eventually understand that what I accomplished in Gotham was all for a greater good."

Juliet's eyes sparkled with amusement, an enthralling sight. He had not noticed the dimples before.

"Now there's where you're wrong, and I'll explain myself in a minute. But first, I have a confession to make. I really, really liked your speech at Blackgate."

"Thank you!" He nodded. "It was my intention that you should like it!" He watched, fascinated as Juliet pulled a long lock of hair over her left shoulder and began to play with it.

"Positioning yourself as a Robin Hood figure was genius, except for the fact that true justice is a very grey area that can never be achieved by tossing the wealthy from their homes and handing the keys to the people. Still, you looked wonderful standing on top of that tumbler. You really are the whole package - attractive, charismatic, you speak well, and the crowd can't get enough of you."

Behind the mask, Bane's mouth dropped open. No woman had ever flattered him to his face before. Of course Talia had, but he had always suspected underlying motive in her praise. Once again words failed the mercenary, who was now hopelessly captivated by the woman before him.

"In a way it's too bad I cancelled my wedding plans, because you would have made an excellent master of ceremonies at the reception dinner!" Juliet grinned from ear to ear, anticipating his reaction.

"You are impertinent, young woman!" They were the only words the gob-smacked Bane could manage under the circumstances.

"You know what I think? She continued thoughtfully. "I think you and this so-called 'League' are a bunch of thugs - losers with your noses pressed up against Gotham's windows. You want what we have here, but you don't want to arrive at it by initiative. You want it by insurrection."

"I would not consider years of study and exhaustive training a lack of initiative!" Bane frowned, wondering why he allowed her to be so bold. If she were anyone else, she'd be dead on the floor in front of him after a remark like that.

"You are very naïve, Miss Marchand - ignorant of the power of the League. It has the authority to end all war, if it so chooses."

"Well, that's never going to happen!" Juliet scoffed. "This state of human existence that we call civilization was built on the backs of one culture dominating another. The reason we're here is because we beat up on an opponent who couldn't stop us. War is written into our DNA, Bane. We're hard-wired for it. It's instinctual. You'll never end it, and even if you could, why would you want to? Your gang is too good at waging it on others."

Deeply offended, Bane halted her words. It was enough that she doubted the legitimacy of The League of Shadows, but referring to the group as a 'gang' was insult beyond the pale. It was a word that Bruce had once used against The League as well.

"My dear girl, The League does not wage war. For thousands of years it has acted as a check against human corruption. When a civilization such as Gotham reaches the pinnacle of its decadence, we return to restore balance. We sacked Rome. Burned London to the ground." the mercenary boasted, pacing proudly.

"Not in my history books you didn't!" Juliet shot back. "Rome was sacked several times. Which one of them do you claim responsibility for?"

Bane's hands dropped to his sides once more, his fingers twitching wildly as he swaggered toward Juliet in an effort to intimidate her with his proximity. He stopped when his waist pressed against her knees.

"All of them!" He answered in a low, threatening voice as he stared into her eyes. "The Great Fire of London began in a bakeshop in Pudding Lane. The League had a man inside that night!"

"And you personally witnessed the ends of these civilizations? Next you'll tell me that your gang caused the volcanic eruption that buried Pompeii, or that you sank Atlantis into the sea." Juliet's gentle laughter rang out as Bane struggled with his composure.

He had only to reach out to her soft white neck, and her contrary opinions would die with her. Blinking several times, he stifled the urge to crush her throat.

"The truth can be found in The League's extensive library." He insisted, determined to be the victor in their debate. "For thousands of years, scholars have recorded League history, just as the Greeks and Romans recorded their own times."

"Oh, come on! How do you know that Ra's al Guhl didn't fake history in order to attract desirable recruits with phony legends of immortality?" Juliet challenged.

"I only know that he did not, Madam." Bane countered emphatically. His hands were clenched tightly at his sides, his eyes gleaming dangerously.

"The name is Juliet." She reminded him coyly. "And I don't understand how you can defend this Ra's al Ghul, seeing as he kicked you out of the gang."

"This conversation is at an end!" Bane growled irritably. "If you will excuse me, I will take Barsad's supplies downstairs and allow you to get on with your day."

"But you're injured. Why don't you just ask Barsad to get his lazy butt up here and carry them down? Or I can do it!" She insisted as she leapt off the kitchen counter.

"Stay where you are!" He boomed. "I am quite capable."

With a quiet groan he bent at the knees, scooping the stacked boxes off the floor. Straightening, he shut his eyes as he waited for the ache in his chest and shoulder to pass.

"Ouch..." Juliet whispered sympathetically.

They held diverging points of view, but Bane could not deny that their encounter had left him feeling flushed and oddly exhilarated. She'd made him forget the disturbing nightmare that haunted his sleep and intruded on his day. And, she'd made him feel like a man instead of a puppet.

Bane opened his eyes as the pain faded. "We will speak again." He rumbled, taking one last look at her before turning to steer the boxes through the door to the apartment downstairs.

"Oh, you can count on it!" Juliet smiled as she followed, making sure he got through the door and down the stairs safely.

Downstairs, Barsad rushed to take the boxes from Bane. "I've changed my mind about that one! She talks back, and you definitely don't want that quality in a woman!"

"That is enough, Brother!" Bane warned him wearily. "I have already stated that I neither want nor have need of a woman." The mercenary's dark eyes shone with purpose.

"Having said that, I look forward to further conversations with her. She will be useful in keeping me on my toes while I am here. Yes, Miss Marchand will be a good sparring partner, and nothing more..."


	4. Chapter 4

Wake Up and Live

by batmanbane

 

Try as he might, Bane could not ignore the television.

Barsad turned it on early in the morning and watched it all day... often falling asleep in front of it by night. The Gotham City news channel's programming consisted largely of news about rebuilding efforts within the city. But there was still a healthy presence of Batman stories and reminiscences from those who claimed to have seen or had been assisted by him.

Annoyed by all the attention paid to Bruce, Bane ordered Barsad to either turn off the tv or find something else to watch. The sniper chose a classic movie channel, and soon both men found themselves reluctantly drawn into the fictional lives of ordinary Americans.

Normally Bane avoided Hollywood films of any kind, but one film set against the backdrop of The Great Depression was instantly enthralling. He and Barsad sat in stunned silence as the tale unfolded. Its 1930s era protagonist was a fugitive from a prison chain gang. In the film, the convict escaped a pack of dogs sent to track him and eventually achieved success and respectability in the construction business, until his past caught up with him.

From the film's demoralizing opening scenes to its devastating final fade-out, Bane was astonished that the convict was shown to be no less than a noble man, an innocent done in by economic circumstance and an uncaring justice system.

"Oh, Christ!" Barsad's voice quivered unashamedly as he rubbed his wet eyes at the film's conclusion. "That was beautiful, man! The poor bastard."

There was amusement in Bane's dark eyes as he observed Barsad's show of emotion. "It was the system that made him a criminal, brother. This film reminds us why we came to Gotham. The same protocols that failed our cinematic friend will continue to thrive in this city, thanks to Bruce's heroics. However, Gotham's shortcomings are no longer of concern to us."

The film had prompted Bane to think on his own origins in the Pit. Because he had been born in prison, he automatically assumed the same guilt as any murderer or rapist, and yet even as a young man he had always considered himself a superior human being among the low men of the prison pit - until the day he saved Talia's life.

The beating, the botched surgery and the excruciating pain he suffered engendered an all-consuming thirst for revenge, and a taste for cruelty perfected by his ex-communication at the hands of the messianic Ra's al Ghul. Since then, he had routinely made a habit of flaunting his sadism before dispatching his victims.

The Pit and its prisoners had made him a criminal, not that it mattered anymore. The media reported that he and Barsad were thought to be dead, although both men knew the police secretly believed otherwise. Still, they were both very confident that they would successfully depart Gotham when the time was right.

Bane's mood had improved in the ten days since their arrival, and he was hopeful that he had turned a corner in overcoming his feelings of failure and loss. The future was wide open.

He saw clearly for the first time in years. He now understood that he owed nothing to Ra's al Ghul. In reality, Ra's owed him for saving Talia's life, and the account had been paid in full a long time ago, when Ra's rescued Bane from the Pit.

The League of Shadows was his to do with whatever he pleased, and he would no longer do the work of the al Ghul family. Avenging Talia was pointless now that Bruce was dead.

Bane shook himself back to reality as the second in command's voice broke into his thoughts.

"No pack of wild dogs is going to chase us down like the poor bastard in the movie. It's lucky for you I made Eagle Scout, which is the highest ranking in Boy Scouts."

Beneath the mask, Bane smirked.

"Am I to understand that your knowledge of orienteering and use of the compass is superior to mine?"

"You're damn right it is, and I've got the merit badges to prove it." Barsad reached into a nearby backpack and retrieved a small box, passing it to Bane for his inspection.

Inside the box, Bane found an arrangement of colourful and exquisitely stitched badges. Fascinated, he examined the treasures closely. There were badges for camping, hiking, fishing, first aid, and astronomy, among many others.

"And here is your orienteering badge!" Bane lifted the miniature multi-coloured emblem of achievement, and experienced a wave of pride. He would never admit it to his second-in-command, but he was touched that Barsad had chosen to share a portion of a past that obviously held a great deal of meaning for him. Once again Bane was surprised by the sensitivity of the sniper.

"How is it that I never knew my lieutenant was so highly decorated? You honour me, soldier!" The mask gasped and wheezed in admiration.

Barsad shrugged, suddenly embarrassed. "Aww, it's just kid stuff… I never showed them to anybody before. I think being confined down here is getting to me."

With a deep sigh he retreated behind the bar to pull the casserole he'd prepared out of the oven.

"Between that, and quitting sex and cigarettes cold turkey, I'm a mess. No wonder the movie choked me up!"

Bane joined Barsad at the bar and settled painfully on a stool. "We cannot risk the neighbours snooping about because they detect the odour of smoke where there was none before. And even so, you know that she will never allow you to smoke in her home. As for your lust for the female of the species, abstinence is a virtue, brother.

"Yea? Well, I may not be getting any sex, but I'm sure as hell gonna make sure you do!"

Bane's expression darkened as the mask wheezed ominously. "You will do no such thing. That is an order!"

Ignoring him, Barsad continued to talk.

"And if you were any good at orienteering, you'd have already maneuvered the princess into the bedroom upstairs. But, I'm the guy with the badge, so I'm gonna give you a little help."

"Perhaps you are right about your mental state, Barsad. We shall have to see about getting you some fresh air." Bane said dryly.

"Hey, what do you think the sweet thing will say when I tell her there weren't really any guns pointed at her boyfriend? I think those should be my parting words to her on the day we walk out of here!"

Bane raised a finger to his mask. "Hold your tongue, brother!"

The door slid open, and Juliet's grey tabby cat bounded determinedly down the stairs, followed closely by his frustrated owner.

"Stripe!" Juliet whined. "No…"

Remembering his manners, Bane immediately rose from his seat.

He didn't understand why he trusted her. He only knew that he had looked into her eyes at City Hall, and for a brief moment she had shaken his world. He didn't know what she was to him but he intended to find out, and he would do it away from the prying eyes and interference of his second-in-command. He valued Barsad's friendship and loyalty above all, but where she was concerned Bane was determined to go it alone.

He had enjoyed several pleasing encounters with her, the most recent of which had been the previous day. He had come to realize that she was queen of her kitchen kingdom. It was there that she was at her most confident and verbose. She could carry on with the complicated preparation of a raspberry pie or a braised pot roast, all the while engaged in a debate on the wisdom of Bane releasing the Blackgate prisoners. Sometimes she spoke of cooking, and the catering business she hoped to resurrect. Bane considered her plans misguided, and had wasted no time in telling her so.

"You believe you offer a professional service but in reality you are merely a glorified slave of the corrupt! Why are you content to satisfy the whims of spoiled brides-to-be and indulgent parents for the remainder of your life? Have you never considered that a greater destiny awaits?"

"You mean like your superior officer and her plan to destroy the city? That's not destiny. That's megalomania. What's your destiny, Bane?"

"The League of Shadows is mine now!" He had boasted. "It is my duty and my destiny to restore it to its ancient glory."

Juliet giggled softly, but Bane had barely noticed. He had been mesmerized by the way her fingers artfully fitted pastry dough around a pie plate, and by the way she brushed milk all over the dough with her forefinger, sucking the residual from her finger tip. It was an action that stirred his male parts more than he cared to admit.

The milk, she explained, would help the pastry brown in the oven...

Her manner was quite different whenever she ventured into the apartment he and Barsad occupied. There she appeared reserved, and anxious. Bane had put her hesitance down to her fear of his lieutenant, since he had been rough with her on their first night in her home. Her fragility reminded Bane of the day he had first laid eyes on her, when her eyelashes fluttered against her pale skin and her chest heaved nervously.

Now, as he stood up from his bar stool, he realized that he was as drawn to the shy Juliet as he was to the spirited Juliet.

"I'm sorry… I try to keep Stripe upstairs, but he really loves to hang out with men…"

Bane gripped the straps of his vest and addressed her. "Your feline is most welcome, Juliet, as are you. This is your home, after all. However, I wish to point out that I grew to manhood in the full understanding that a creature with claws and teeth will eventually use them."

The caterer's eyes widened with alarm, as she imagined Bane twisting the tabby's neck. "Stripe won't scratch unless you provoke him!"

Enjoying the apprehension in her expression, Bane advanced upon her slowly, further amused when she cuddled the cat closely at his approach.

He stared at her with eyes that seemed to take in every part of her.

"I was actually speaking of your claws and teeth."

A hot blush spread across her cheeks, completely robbing her of the ability to respond to his surprisingly playful remark. Bane's proximity was even more dizzying than usual, because today he wore no shirt - only the bullet-proof vest which revealed the full glory of the bicep and trapezoid muscles previously concealed by his black shirt.

Forcing herself to look away, she directed her attention to Barsad, whom she rightly suspected was the cook, and broached a subject that had peaked her curiosity all morning.

"Something smells delicious! What is it, Mr. Barsad?"

The bearded lieutenant slipped easily from behind the bar. "Well, thank you, darlin'. I just pulled it out of the oven. It's my own recipe – Beef Burgundy!" He dipped a wooden spoon into the rich-looking stew and offered it to Juliet.

"Oh… no. I'm not really all that hungry."

Barsad frowned. "Well go ahead – try it! It ain't gonna poison you, Princess." He was supremely confident of her reaction once she tasted it.

She reluctantly took the spoon he offered and tasted the stew. Green eyes widened in surprise at the first swallow, and after the second swallow, she blinked, her expression mirroring the insecurity she felt as she shifted from one foot to another.

She had to face facts. John Barsad's Beef Burgundy was far superior to her own recipe.

"Hmmmm. This is… very good. I mean… it's excellent. Okay, so you've humbled me. I admit this is better than mine."

Barsad grinned lasciviously. "You're damn right it's better, and if you're nice to me, I may even share the recipe. Tell you what, Duchess! I'm gonna invite you to lunch!"

The words had barely left Barsad's mouth, when the calculating sniper felt the pressure of Bane's palm pressing firmly against his chest.

With his eyes now glinting dangerously, Bane shifted his massive build directly between Juliet and the bearded mercenary to increase the space between them.

"I am quite certain Juliet has no desire to break bread with the men who have invaded her home and forced her to cooperate." Bane's mask hissed ominously as he glowered at Barsad.

He had experienced the primitive emotion of jealousy before, when Talia decided it was necessary to seduce Bruce Wayne. It was a barbaric sensation that he'd hoped never to experience again. Now his lieutenant flirted with Juliet, and Bane felt the ugly emotion threatening once again.

He was thankful for his sense of hearing, which diverted his attention to the sound of a car pulling into the driveway.

"You are expecting someone!" His words sounded like an accusation as he glared at Juliet. Barsad pulled a pistol from the waistband of his jeans and took position at the bottom of the stairs.

Juliet addressed the angry mercenary fearfully. "I'm not expecting anyone! But it might be Jeffrey."

"Go on, then!" Bane growled menacingly, gesturing towards the stairs. "Turn him away."

Instantly she put Stripe on the floor and started up the stairs. Before she reached the top she turned and appealed to the masked mercenary.

"Bane, I'm begging you. Please don't hurt Jeffrey!"

When Bane didn't reply, she reluctantly disappeared behind the squeaky pocket door. She was stunned to see, as she peeked through the blinds, that her visitor was not Jeffrey Sorrento. No, the man waiting on the opposite side of the back door was Commissioner James Gordon.

The blood drained from her complexion, and her heart began to pound. She put on a brave face and opened the door.

"Good morning, Juliet!" He greeted her cheerfully. "I'm sorry to arrive unannounced. I tried to call you, but your landline is dead. Were you aware of that?"

Jim Gordon had become a good friend to Juliet since Jeffrey had first introduced them. Their acquaintance was probably the reason why he had paid her a personal visit instead of sending police officers.

She'd been found out. They knew she was hiding the mercenaries, and now Jim Gordon had come to arrest her. She was in very serious trouble, because she hadn't fled her home to cry for help when she'd had ample opportunities to do so.

She was soon to be charged with aiding and abetting America's most wanted, and when the men downstairs understood what was happening, there would likely be gunfire.

"No, I didn't...I don't know what happened to it." She knew her voice must have sounded distracted and high strung, because that was how she felt. Flustered, she ushered James Gordon into her kitchen.

She did know what happened. John Barsad had confiscated her laptop and smartphone, and he'd obviously cut the phone line as well. Why hadn't she noticed earlier that her phone hadn't rung in several days?

"Oh well. There have been all kinds of service interruptions ever since liberation. Don't worry. We'll get it right sooner or later…" Gordon was reassuring, although he thought her behaviour odd. "I hope I didn't come at a bad time?"

"Not at all, Jim. It's nice to see you…" Her instinct had been to offer her wrists to him, to get the handcuffing over with. Instead, she shoved her shaking hands into the pockets of her dress, steeling herself for what was to come.

"I was in the neighbourhood, and I remembered that Jeff told me you were looking for a job."

Relief washed over her, and she let out a huge sigh, nodding and steadying herself.

"Yes...I am looking for a job, Jim. Something temporary. Eventually I want to get my business up and running again, but in the meantime, I still have a mortgage to pay."

"Well, I just dropped by to remind you that City Hall is hosting an Open House, where you can network with representatives from over 100 employers. The deputy mayor has asked me to join the "Homes for All" project, which will also have a presence there. Do you know the rate of homelessness in Gotham has quadrupled thanks to that bastard Bane?"

Juliet winced, knowing full well that the mercenaries could hear every word.

"Yes, I'll definitely be at the Open House, Jim. It will be good to get out and socialize with people again. It's been over two months since Bane's defeat, and yet I still stick pretty close to home. I know Jeffrey will be there too, but he and I are just going to have to keep our distance."

Jim Gordon scratched the back of his head. "You know, it's a shame you two split up. I always thought you belonged together."

"So everyone says." Juliet nodded, her mind turning in circles. The situation was absurd! Commissioner James Gordon stood in her kitchen. All she had to do was pass him a note, and it would be over for the fugitives in her downstairs apartment. Gordon was an old pro, and he could probably take both of them down before John Barsad had a chance to alert the executioners who stalked Jeff Sorrento.

She had to take the chance. Forget her misguided flirtation with Bane, because it wasn't going to lead anywhere except prison, or worse. The police might go easy on her if she could prove that the mercenaries threatened Jeffrey.

"Jim...!" Reaching out to grab his wrist, her wide, frightened eyes appealed to him until an imagined newsflash stopped her from saying anything more.

Gotham City Councillor Jeff Sorrento was shot execution-style this morning on the steps of City Hall in front of hundreds of shocked witnesses…

Gordon frowned and shook his head at the sight of her obvious distress. "What's wrong, Juliet? You're not yourself today!"

Before she could say another word, another newsflash invaded her mind.

Breaking news... Commissioner James Gordon was shot to death in a Corktown home today, the victim of an apparent home invasion.

"You know, before I made Police Commissioner I was a pretty good cop. If something is wrong, I can help…"

Her heart plummeted, because now the mercenaries knew the identity of her visitor.

Completely misunderstanding the situation, Gordon took her hand. "Breakups are always hard. But you had to cancel your wedding and lose your deposits, and that only adds to an already stressful situation. Try not to be too hard on yourself."

She nodded robotically as she felt tears threatening. He was being so nice, and she was deceiving him. "Thanks. Sorry you caught me on an emo day." At any moment she expected the terrorists to break through the door and open fire on Commissioner Gordon. Perhaps even herself.

It was a moment that ultimately didn't happen.

"Forget it. You take care, and I'll see you at the Open House, okay?" Gordon gave her one last concerned look before heading to his car and pulling out of the driveway.

Juliet watched him go through the blinds. The silence in the kitchen was deafening, and she turned to find Bane standing behind her.

"Don't sneak up on me like that!" The back of her arm swiftly wiped away the gathering tears she hoped he didn't see. "You could have easily killed him! So why didn't you?"

Bane watched her silently as he contemplated the question. The first and foremost reason why he had not killed Gordon was because only he could reveal Talia's final moments. The Batman was dead, and the cat burglar had disappeared. Gordon had confirmed to the media that Talia was awake and talking following the crash of the truck, but steadfastly guarded her final words.

It comforted Bane to fantasize a conversation between himself and James Gordon, where he would grill the commissioner about Talia's last moments.

Had Talia asked for him before she died? He desperately needed to know, and yet what if Gordon's answer was not what he wanted to hear?

The second reason he'd allowed Gordon to live was more obvious, as he explained.

"Your home must be our sanctuary until we are able to leave the city undetected. Killing James Gordon would have only brought more police to your door." Bane's tone was very matter-of-fact.

Fuming, Juliet locked the back door and aggressively threw the deadbolt.

"You are angry." He observed calmly.

"Of course I'm angry! Jim Gordon being here just brought it all home for me. I'm a criminal. I'm hiding two terrorists who I had a chance to turn in, and I didn't, so now I'm an accessory to a crime. Not only that, the city has gone to hell, homelessness has quadrupled, and I'm going to lose my house if I don't get a job!"

Bane battled a rush of the infatuation he'd felt on the day he first laid eyes on her. Unlike Talia, whose perfection had been enhanced by regular visits to the spa in her role as Miranda Tate, Juliet was a random beauty. A wildflower growing in a field of weeds.

"Calm yourself. There is no need for panic. You are to receive a substantial financial reward when we leave here."

"Really? Well, I'm afraid I can't take your blood money."

"It's not just any blood money, my dear. It is Mr. John Daggett's blood money, and I can assure you, Juliet, that he has no further use for it now." The expression in Bane's eyes was as gleeful as the tone of his voice.

"I won't be indebted to you."

Bane settled his large frame on the edge of the kitchen counter opposite the dishwasher. "Ahh! So you are that one citizen of Gotham who cannot be bought."

"A lot of people in this city can't be bought, including the man being watched by your snipers."

"Your loyalty and concern towards Mr. Sorrento is surprising, considering your rejection of him as husband material."

"That doesn't mean we have to be enemies. When the smoke clears, I hope he and I can be friends."

The mercenary raised himself from his resting position and swaggered toward her, arms hanging loosely at his sides, fingers twitching.

"The situation speaks to the obvious moral decay amongst Gotham's citizens. I find myself sympathyzing with Mr. Sorrento in this matter. To be cast off as your friend when he desires more..."

The mercenary stopped himself from saying anything more, realizing his opinion had become far too personal to his own experience. Instead, he steered the conversation in another direction.

"If you belonged to me, I simply would not allow you to be friendly with a former lover." His dark gaze penetrated hers, and Juliet realized he was making a bold claim on her...


	5. Chapter 5

Wake Up and Live

by batmanbane

Juliet smirked. It wasn't hard to believe that a man like Bane would refuse to allow the woman in his life to be friends with a former lover. It was an old-fashioned attitude, but in that regard he was probably like most men.

Fearlessly, she met his approach, observing him with a thoughtful eye.

"I'm not surprised by your attitude. I mean, you always stare at me like I'm some kind of strange new species! For all your braggadocio, Bane, I sense you don't have a lot of experience with women other than that superior officer of yours."

A hint of uneasiness reflected in the mercenary's eyes, but he maintained his composure. He did not want to talk about Talia. His unresolved feelings for her and the way he had allowed her to manipulate him were issues that he preferred to deal with alone. He was not prepared to hear any lectures on the subject from the woman standing before him.

Juliet was in no mood to lecture, however, and tugged playfully on the red cord that hung from the straps of his vest. "Do you ever wake up with a smile under that mask?"

Bane's brow furrowed menacingly. She was a bold woman, this Juliet Marchand. Was she falsely leading him on, as Talia had done? Did all women behave like jezebels?

"A reliance on sex is death to any man. I have seen it repeatedly throughout my military career. Good men destroyed by their baser desires. My own lieutenant has an insatiable lust for female flesh, which I fear will be his undoing. As for me, I am immune. No woman has ever toppled me!"

Juliet chuckled knowingly. "Maybe not yet. You can hide behind the scary mask and the smug bravado, but inside you're still just a man, with the same dreams and desires as any other. You want what every man wants."

"Power!" Bane volleyed his raspy response without missing a beat.

Juliet laughed again, a soft, gentle sound that fueled the embers of his core. "No. You know exactly what I mean."

The mercenary's expressive brow twitched. He was all too aware that his member had hardened significantly in the past several minutes, and that the changes to his body were likely visible through his pants. For the mercenary, an erection had always been the normal by-product of a killing. Violence aroused him far more than any woman in his experience, except for when Talia wanted something from him, and deliberately sought to tantalize him.

Now he could no longer deny the intense physical pleasure of his stiffening manhood, or the feeling of dominance it gave to him, and he wanted much more. He was beginning to feel feverish; his chest heaved as he breathed through his desire, and the mask wheezed ominously. Instinctively he understood that persistent denial was key to his escalating arousal, and he moved so closely to Juliet that their bodies touched.

"I need no such pacification," he growled in a low, provocative tone. The largely reserved and polite mercenary had let his guard down and was rushing full speed ahead. The proof was in the hot hardness pressing against her.

"All men want sex, Bane. Even the nice ones like Jeffrey Sorrento want it. You're no different."

Bane considered her words carefully as the two stood in silence for a moment – a silence loaded with subtext. She was right of course. His frustrating, unconsummated relationship with Talia was proof of that. Like sneezing or urination, sex offered relief, and he admitted to himself that he desperately needed relief.

"Shall we pretend for a moment that I am no different than other men, and that I do want a woman?" He cocked his masked head to one side. "Who might that woman be? You, perhaps?"

Astonished, Juliet blinked and nervously shifted from one foot to the other. What had begun as a harmless game with the aim of making the haughty mercenary blush had spun out of control. She hadn't expected such directness from him, or that he would take her up on the challenge.

Or had she? The truth was that she wanted Bane's attention. She loved the way he stared at her, and she longed to know how it felt to be held in his arms…but she could not be sure if either one of them was ready for anything more than suggestive conversation. And there was so much she didn't know about him. The media had many theories, but what was beneath the mechanism wrapped around his face?

"Oh, I don't know about that. There's competition out there. Lots of Gotham girls had a thing for you while you were in charge." She peered up at him, anxiously awaiting his reaction to her words.

Bane's frown persisted. Coffee-bean eyes stared directly into green, as his massive hand ghosted, but never quite make contact with her flushed skin.

"I would not know. I saw only you."

She should have been repulsed by what he'd done in Gotham, and yet she could not ignore the overwhelming desire she felt for him even from the very beginning. Everything from his confident swagger to the enchanting lilt of his speech patterns fired her blood. Close up, a beautiful mystery lingered in his fathomless eyes, and tugged at her heart.

"I'm afraid I must take my leave of you now." Bane had suddenly and inexplicably, broken the spell. His mechanically enhanced voice sounded strained and exhausted, and a disappointed Juliet reminded herself that the man was still recovering from injury...

"Are you okay?" Her voice reflected the sudden alarm she felt. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I assure you, I am well, but I am also well overdue for rest." Bane hated himself for his physical weaknesses, and wondered if he would ever recover from the injuries he sustained at City Hall. Once again, he silently cursed Selina Kyle.

"Good night, Juliet, and thank you. We will speak tomorrow."

"Good night, Bane. Call me if you need me, or anything at all." Her words were impulsive, yet heartfelt.

Bane said nothing and disappeared behind the pocket door.

Downstairs, a euphoric Barsad awaited.

"What in the hell? I've been making an ass of myself all this time, giving you advice about women, when it turns out you could teach me a few things! That was textbook, brother! Come here and give me a hug!" The beaming second-in-command's arms opened wide in invitation.

"Stand down, brother!" Bane sternly waved him off. "Your appreciation is noted. But I require rest, immediately."

'I wouldn't know. I saw only you', the sniper gleefully parroted his commanding officer's words to Juliet, and launched into a chorus of hysterical giggles.

"Oh, man. I can't wait to use that line on a chick! You did everything right, except you didn't close the deal! Well, you did so well today that I'm not going to complain. You'll get her next time!"

"Nonsense! It meant nothing, brother. The woman was toying with me! I merely gave her a dose of her own medicine." Bane shrugged off his vest and grunted irritably.

"If it meant nothing then why is that dormant dong of yours alive and kicking in your pants?"

Bane tossed the cumbersome vest aside as his eyes met Barsad's laughing blue stare.

"One more word out of you, brother, and you will find yourself with a broken neck!"

The next morning, Juliet rose early to prepare for the Open House at City Hall. She dressed conservatively in a simple black dress, with three quarter length sleeves and an A-line skirt, which she paired with low-rise heels.

She was pulling on her trench coat when she heard Barsad's lazy shuffle on the stairs below.

He pushed his way noisily through the pocket door, and she was stunned to see that he was clean-shaven and dressed in an impeccable grey suit. His otherwise unruly hair was slicked neatly against his head.

Juliet should have been the one to stare, but it was John Barsad who looked her up and down with a critical eye.

"What's with the all-black ensemble, Princess? Somebody die or something?"

"No… I'm on my way out to the Open House at City Hall...and this is what I'm wearing."

"You don't need a job, Princess…". Barsad yawned deeply and stretched. "Bane already told you that he wants to come to a financial arrangement with you."

"And I already told him that I can't accept it, Mr. Barsad, because it's blood money."

Barsad settled his cold stare on her. "Lady, you protest too much. Here you are, trifling with the big guy every day like you really want to sleep with him. Well, I'm all for that. I say you should live a little, and God knows, Bane could use the action. But don't you wave the flag of virtue at me..."

A humiliated Juliet had never considered that Barsad might be listening in on all her flirtatious conversations with Bane. Of course he had. And of course she was a hypocrite - refusing Bane's offer of money even as she flirted with him.

"Fair enough, Mr. Barsad, but you haven't told me why you're all decked out in that suit. Or why you've shaved, as if I can't guess…"

Barsad nodded knowingly. "That's right, Doll. Bane ordered me to escort you to the Open House, and not only just to keep an eye on you. He's worried about me because he thinks I've gone a little shack-happy. I've been watching too many old movies, and getting emotionally involved in them. He also thinks I'm too interested in what goes on between you and him. Says I need some fresh air. You've already seen me in action, Sweets. You know I can be a disturbing guy, so you understand Bane's concern."

"You mean we're going to drive over there together? Honestly, I'm scared of you, Mr. Barsad. You're a loose cannon, and I'm not going to get into a car with you."

"Would I hurt a fellow cook? C'mon Juliet. We've shared recipes. Doesn't that make us friends? I know we got off to a rocky start, but I'm not carrying a weapon, and I have no underlying motives." The mercenary patted himself down to prove he had nothing hidden. "Besides which, Bane would murder me if I caused you any harm. I'll be a perfect gentleman, Duchess. Scout's honour!"

"Absolutely not. How are you going to explain your presence if anyone asks who you are?"

"I'm a high school teacher from the deep-south, working on a cookbook based on my travels around the world. My latest stop is Gotham, and I came to the Open House to soak up the local culture. My pen name is Will Varner, in case anyone wants to look for my book in the future." Barsad had made his backstory up on the spot.

"And what makes you think people won't recognize you as one of Bane's men?"

"No one's going to recognize me." Barsad reached inside his breast pocket and pulled out a pair of horn-rimmed glasses.

"Now, we take your car. You enter City Hall first, and I'll follow you in after five minutes. When it's time to go, I'll signal you to leave, and I follow you out in another five minutes. No tricks, Duchess. Remember that my guys are watching your ex."

The cavernous courthouse that was part of the Gotham City Hall complex teemed with locals, all looking to network with potential employers, talk politics or just commune with their neighbours after the long, horrible winter of Bane. Repairs to the court were near completion, and all the damaged furniture had been either repaired or replaced. It was a beautiful spring day in Gotham, which made the Open House and its theme of rebirth and renewal even more meaningful.

Frustrated City Councillor Jeff Sorrento, standing alongside Commissioner James Gordon in the reception line, ran his hand through his sandy hair and stared longingly across the room at Juliet, his former fiancé, who was helping herself to a cup of tea at the buffet tables.

"Look at her, with that secret smile, lost in the clouds. She's glowing. Absolutely radiant. I tell you, Jim, she's got another man. I just know it."

Jim Gordon silently agreed. It certainly looked that way. He had decided not to share his observation of Juliet's strange behaviour the day before when he had stopped by to remind her of the Open House.

"C'mon!" He gave Jeff a hearty slap on the back. "Let me buy you a beer."

Meanwhile, Juliet moved on to the dessert table, curious as to who had catered the Open House.

She blushed as thoughts of Bane resurfaced, and she sighed as she remembered the words he had spoken to her the night before...

I would not know. I saw only you.

Jeffrey Sorrento had never said anything remotely as romantic as those words.

And yet there had been no motive on Bane's part, no attempt to seduce. It was an innocent observation on his part.

She wondered if the attractive mercenary had any idea of his potential as a lover.

Her pleasing reverie was broken when an aging black man joined her at the dessert table. Dressed in a tweed suit and bow tie, he chose as many desserts as he could fit on his plate.

As she brought herself back to reality she glanced furtively at his selections: a cinnamon bun, a berry crumb tart, a chocolate crescent wrap, and an apple turnover.

The man noticed her staring and smiled apologetically. "When you get to be my age, you spoil yourself."

Juliet grinned. "Oh, I like sweets too, although I lean towards chocolate more than anything else. You know, I tried the apple turnover, and to tell you the truth, I can make a better one. This one has too much sugar and not enough flavour."

The older man was taken aback by her claim. "You don't say?", he exclaimed amusedly.

"It's true. I mean, I don't know who catered this event, but I make a far better pastry than this! I had a catering business, but I had to shut it down…thanks to Bane."

The man looked sympathetic. "And now you need a job. Do you have a business card, Ms. – ?"

"It's… you can just call me Juliet." She reached into her purse and nervously offered him her card. It had been a while since she'd had to sell herself.

"Food service. It's all I know, really. I'd gladly bag groceries at Eden Market if it would get me out of the house and pay my bills, but they aren't hiring."

The man pulled his own business card out of his breast pocket, which identified him as Lucius Fox of Wayne Enterprises.

"You may be interested to know that this event was catered by the executive dining room staff at my company."

Gasping, she slapped her hand over her mouth. "Oops. I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have made that crack about the pastry!"

"It's quite alright." Lucius Fox had a natural gift for putting other people at ease. "I appreciate your candor, Ms. Marchand. If you'll meet me in the lobby of Wayne Enterprises tomorrow morning at 10:00, I'll put you to work in the executive dining room's kitchen, where you can prove to me that your pastry is better.

Taken aback by the man's unexpected offer, she sputtered, "but, tomorrow's Sunday!"

"That's right. You'll have the whole kitchen to yourself. If you're as good as you claim, the dining room could use you as a pastry chef.

"But, Mr. Fox, I thought executive dining rooms were on the extinction list!"

"Oh they still exist. It's just that they aren't private anymore, and the executives now pay for their meals. Most companies have opened their dining room doors to all employees. It's a way for everyone to circulate and get to know all the folks at every level of the company. Actually, it was Miranda Tate who was the driving force behind opening up the room to all employees."

Juliet grimaced. "Oh! Her."

Fox paused. "I refuse to call her by that other name. To me she'll never be that woman. Ms. Tate was intelligent, accomplished and very generous. She cared deeply about the world, Wayne Enterprises and the energy project, or at least I thought she did. I championed her at the company, put her on the board."

The grey-haired executive sighed thoughtfully, and continued.

"I'm an old fool, and I was duped by a beautiful and charming extremist. After such a lapse in judgment, I thought it was time for me to get out. I was about to submit my resignation, when I realized that even though he was gone, I was letting Mr. Wayne down. So, I'm still here."

Fox returned his empty plate to the table. "Well, Juliet, I must continue circulating. Will I see you tomorrow morning?"

Juliet shook the older man's hand enthusiastically. "I'll see you then, Mr. Fox!"

The unemployed caterer surveyed the room carefully, her eyes finally finding Barsad's in the crowd. Sporting his horn-rimmed spectacles, he was holding court with a trio of attractive young women, and he was clearly having the time of his life...

But, he understood his role, and he nodded briefly at Juliet, who picked up her coat and headed for the parking garage. In the next few minutes Barsad detached himself - very reluctantly - from his admirers. It was time to leave.

Barsad had washed up the dinner dishes and was glued to the tv again, involved in another depression era tale – this time the story of an elderly couple separated after the loss of their home. Each was forced to live with one of their adult children, across the country from one another. Knowing they would likely never see one another again, they embarked on one last adventure together in the city where they spent their honeymoon.

Bane could not stomach what he regarded as shameless sentimentality, and retired to the bedroom with a copy of An American Tragedy, which he had found on a bookshelf in the bathroom. He hoped to lose himself in its narrative and avoid thoughts of the woman upstairs.

"Come back here and watch this you heartless bastard, or you can make your own dinner from now on! These people could be my grandparents!" The sniper's emotions were high after the freedom he experienced at City Hall. The women he had met were delightful, and they had made him feel like a new man. Now he was beginning to feel trapped again.

"I sent you out with Juliet today, partly to give you respite from this house. How unfortunate that my efforts were all for naught." Bane's mechanically enhanced voice sounded boredly from inside the bedroom.

When the film was over, Barsad reached into his backpack and retrieved yet another prized item. "Here!" Defiantly he tossed a small volume through the open bedroom door. "This is better reading for you."

Bane observed the book's cover and sneered behind the mask. It was a tantric sex manual. Instantly he fired the book back out to Barsad..

"Merely a book of gymnastics for which I have no need," he boomed.

Bane smirked. What he didn't tell Barsad was that he was already very familiar with tantric sex. He knew it backwards and forwards.

He had first become aware of such knowledge as a youth trying to understand the changes to his body. The prison doctor had a library of medical books, and young Bane had eagerly absorbed all the ones on the subject of human sexuality.

As a grown man, he hoped to use his knowledge to become Talia's greatest lover. That day hadn't come, of course, and Bane admitted to himself that such thoughts were reflections of his own arrogance, and that he should have always known that Talia would never make good on her sexual promises.

He returned to his novel and tried to lose himself in the opening lines.

"Dusk–of a summer night. And the tall walls of the commercial heart of an American city of perhaps 400,000 inhabitants—such walls as in time may linger as mere fable."

The novel's fictional setting could have been a smaller Gotham City. As Bane perused the pages, all the familiar tropes in American literature began to unfold: class, self-deception, and narcissism. He groaned as he struggled to get comfortable on the bed's pillows, because there was nothing he enjoyed more than a good book.

And yet, his mind kept drifting to the previous day, and his conversation with Juliet. He was no fool. He knew something intimate happened between them. What if he had not suddenly been felled by fatigue? Would they have ended up in bed?

And was it really fatigue that had held him back, or was it fear? He was not, and never had been, a ladies' man like Barsad. He had never really been much of a lover, because he had saved it all for Talia.

Frustrated, he tossed the novel aside and crawled to the end of the bed. Creeping silently around the bedroom door, he spotted his second-in-command fast asleep in front of the now muted television.

Bane slipped into the main room, careful not to wake Barsad, and lowered himself into a chair near the staircase. Swallowing hard, he stared up at the kitchen door.

He heard her footsteps above as she prepared her own dinner and then cleaned up afterwards. At some point, he could tell she was in the front room of the house, watching television.

Eventually, the tv was silenced, and the only sound he heard apart from Barsad's snoring was Juliet's footsteps retreating up the stairs to her room. Minutes later, he heard the shower running. The sound of rushing water stirred him body and soul, and he rose from his chair, chest expanding.

The media rudely referred to him as 'Talia's pawn'. The woman upstairs flirted and toyed with him. Even his own lieutenant had begun to disrespect him by belittling his lack of interest in the opposite sex. While recovering from the injuries inflicted by Selina Kyle, he had lost all respect owed to him.

It was time to reclaim his standing as a titan among men. He may have lost the battle, but he remained 'Gotham's reckoning'.

He moved silently up the stairs and through the door, passing through the dark kitchen. Bane took a deep breath as he entered the main hall. He had never been to the front of the house before, but moonlight revealed the staircase that would lead him to Juliet.

Wrapped in a towel, Juliet padded down the hall from the bathroom to her tiny bedroom, which was just big enough for a bed, nightstand and a dresser. Standing in front of the dresser's mirror, she reached into the bottom drawer for a clean night shirt. As she returned her glance to the mirror she gasped, startled that she wasn't alone.

Bane now shared the mirror, having emerged from a dark corner to pull her roughly against him. His right hand wrapped around her neck, and his left arm held her securely around her abdomen. His dark expression was other-worldly, as if he were in a trance. Bane was naked from the waist up, and Juliet shivered at the sensation of his warm skin against hers.

"What-" She struggled to speak as Bane's hand began to tighten around her neck.

"Silence!" The mercenary spoke directly into her ear, in a low, threatening rasp. "You are merely a spoil to be enjoyed by me. There will be no further politeness between us."


	6. Chapter 6

"Do not fight me on this. Tonight you are my prisoner." Bane's voice was raspy and threatening. He had stolen into Juliet's bedroom while she showered, intent on being the playful lover.

But she saw his sudden appearance as anything but playful. She gasped, panicking at the feel of his large, rough hand encircling her neck.

"No...don't do this! Take your hand away from my throat!" She pleaded.

The reflection of her fear in the mirror matched the urgency in her voice. It was a reaction Bane hadn't anticipated. Completely taken aback, he released the frightened woman.

Staggering away from him, Juliet massaged her neck, her skin as white as a sheet.

"What - what were you doing, hiding in my room and scaring the hell out of me? Were you going to kill me like you killed the Russian scientist? Is... is that what you meant by me being a spoil?" So terrorized was she that she heaved for breath uncontrollably.

Bane closed his eyes to centre himself, realizing he'd made a mess of things. He had only wanted to establish dominance, and to please her. Instead, he had terrified her. Now he cursed himself for his barbarism, and for his lack of experience with the female psyche.

His mask wheezed, and he quickly came to the decision that the best thing to do was to fall on his sword. He wasn't happy about it, and he couldn't help but feel a certain amount of resentment.

"My words and actions were incorrect. You had every right to believe that I intended to hurt you. But I meant you no harm, and I assure you that this will never happen again."

Securing her towel tighter around her body, Juliet nodded, still heaving for breath. "Okay, thanks..." she huffed softly.

His frowning gaze captured hers just as he turned to leave. "I want you to know that you will always be safe with me. Goodnight."

Stunned, she watched him disappear into the darkness of the hall.

"Wait!"

She couldn't see him, but she sensed he was still there.

"You... you don't have to be so nice about it. Now you've made me feel terrible."

The mercenary reappeared to face her again. His eyes were dark and deadly serious, and Juliet felt her knees grow weak. His scent - a combination of leather and gunpowder - was as intoxicating as a new doll at Christmas.

There was no sound but the mechanized exhalation of his mask. Finally, he spoke again.

"It is a fact that you have been trifling with me ever since our arrival here. Your flirtatious manner has not gone unnoticed. There is a spark between us, as there is in all great love affairs. Consider Caesar and Cleopatra, who met after she had herself rolled into a silk carpet and delivered to him as a gift. Nine months later, she bore him a son."

A hot blush radiated across Juliet's pale complexion.

"Alright." She whispered. "I admit to encouraging the 'spark', even though I don't know a thing about you except that you're a mercenary, and a fugitive... and evil incarnate."

"Yes…" He nodded in agreement. "I am the boy your mother warned you about. I am the man who swept you off your feet at City Hall. I stir within you all the stormy passions that are missing in your sedate relationship with Mr. Sorrento."

The stormy passions stirring in her belly both thrilled and shamed her, but dealing with them would have to wait. If Bane had planned to sleep with her that night, she had spoiled the mood. But she didn't blame herself for her response. She reasoned that most women - except maybe the kinkier ones - would have been as scared as she was by his approach.

"Goodnight, Juliet." Once again he slipped away into the dark hall.

Devastated, she closed her door and crawled into bed, fully expecting the incident to result in a sleepless night. She had an appointment with Lucius Fox in the morning and she wanted to be alert and enthusiastic. Strangely enough, she soon drifted off into a deep sleep.

Bane awoke early as usual, this time full of energy. Preferring to let Barsad sleep, he prepared himself a light breakfast of plain yogurt mixed with orange and banana slices, topped with granola mix. He washed it down with a pot of English breakfast tea. Later, he would instruct Barsad to prepare his usual steak and eggs breakfast. Bane was a carnivore who insisted on three hot meals a day. The cold breakfast would hold him while he worked out with the weights he had found in the closet.

In between sets, he cooled down by pacing the room back and forth. Behind the mask he was smiling, because the night before he had gained the upper hand in his relationship with Juliet Marchand. The young woman had sensed his inexperience with the female sex, and she exploited it. She was a shameless tease and a flirt, frequently steering their conversations around to the subject of sex. And she provoked him by criticizing his work and the legitimacy of the League of Shadows. Last night might have ended badly, thanks to his bedroom faux pas. But in the end, Bane had put Juliet on notice, leaving her with the notion that they were headed for something far headier than a harmless flirtation.

The mercenary's thoughts were broken by the sound of Barsad stirring in the sofa bed at the far end of the room.

"Would you look at you - the cock of the walk this morning!" The sniper rubbed his sleepy eyes, beaming from ear to ear. "Hail the conquering hero!"

"Your silence would be appreciated." Bane said curtly as he picked up two 10 pound weights and curled them towards his biceps. "I require concentration."

"I got up to have a piss and noticed you weren't in your bed last night." Barsad winked cheekily, ignoring Bane's command. "Heard voices upstairs. Did you finally nail her?"

Bane sighed impatiently. "I visited Juliet's sleeping quarters last night. We had a discussion, and that is all, brother."

Barsad rolled his eyes, stretching in his grey boxer shorts. "The good Lord put us on this earth for one thing, and that's fucking. Don't waste a golden opportunity, Bane, because you and I aren't going to be here forever. Tonight's the night I meet with Scorpio, or did you forget?"

Bane digested the sniper's words silently as an uneasiness settled within.

He had forgotten. Scorpio was the man the Bertolini family had contracted to arrange for Bane and Barsad's departure from the city.

"Of course!" He heard himself chirp. "Assume you are marked for betrayal, and prepare yourself, brother."

"Don't worry. I'm ready." The second in command was in the bathroom now, showering. "I'll take the H&K P30. You ready for some breakfast now?"

"Today I will have my eggs sunny side up, with four slices of whole grain toast. Canadian bacon instead of the usual sirloin, if you please."

"Comin' right up." He slipped behind the bar, with his towel still draped around his neck. There was something in Bane's silence that disturbed him. Barsad scratched the irritating new stubble on his jaw, remembering that he had shaved his beard off for the City Hall Open House.

"You know, Bane... I kid you about Juliet, but you don't have to listen to me. Just remember the rule about fooling around on the job."

"What rule?" The mercenary frowned irritably.

Barsad's eyebrow cocked. "Sleep with her if you have to, but don't fall in love with her, because we can't take her with us when we leave."

While the increasingly silent Bane ate his breakfast, Barsad climbed upstairs to see Juliet. He knew she had a meeting with Lucius Fox at Wayne Enterprises, and he wanted to catch her before she left. Knocking on the sliding kitchen door, he called out to her. "Morning, Duchess! Okay if I come in?"

Juliet slid the door open, her mouth full of cereal. "What's up?" She garbled.

"I just wanted to let you know that I have to leave the house for a few hours tonight. I don't want you to be alarmed when you hear the key jiggling in the back door."

"Why?" She demanded. "I mean, why are you going out?"

"To confirm details of our departure."

Juliet blinked. "I'm sorry. What? Whose departure?"

"Do you remember when we first arrived here, I told you that we just needed a safe place to chill for awhile? Well, guess what? You'll be rid of us soon!" The sniper grinned broadly.

Juliet sat down at her dining table, staring into space. "Oh, I see. You're leaving. You're both leaving."

"Aww c'mon, doll. After we forced you to break the law, and lie to Commissioner Gordon, I thought you'd be pleased by the news."

"I'm pleased. I am pleased. I mean, you two have to get back to regime change and whatever else it is you do, and I have to find a job and get my life in order..."

"Right!" Barsad said cheerfully. "It's time for all of us to get back to normal. I'm gonna go out at around midnight. But don't let it keep you awake. I'm not sure how long I'll be."

"Well... take care that no one follows you home. I don't want a gun battle inside my house!"

"Ahhh... it warms my heart to hear your concern for me, Sunshine." Barsad beamed with genuine affection for her. "I knew you'd learn to like me sooner or later!"

One hour later, Juliet stood in the cavernous lobby of Wayne Enterprises. It was a Sunday morning, and she was still reeling from Barsad's news.

They were ruthless killers who had caused a great deal of terror and suffering among Gotham citizens. The Batman was dead thanks to the bomb they had activated. Yet all the fear and the guilt she initially experienced at having given them sanctuary had long dissapated.

They had only been in her house a short time, but she almost couldn't imagine the place without them.

Now they were leaving.

He was leaving. The man who felt the spark between them. The man who offered a suggestive anecdote about Caesar and Cleopatra. The man who knew of her 'stormy passions'. The man she had sent away last night, when she should have dropped her towel.

In the distance a soft *ping* caught her attention, and she cast her eyes over to the bank of elevators. There stood Lucius Fox.

"Good morning!" He greeted her cheerfully. "I see you brought a bag of goodies with you."

"Secret ingredients that I like to use when I'm baking. I wasn't sure what your kitchen had in stock." Juliet grinned sheepishly.

"If you haven't already guessed, I'll be your official 'taster', and I must say I am looking forward to it." Fox patted himself on the belly, as he led her into the elevator.

That night, Barsad waited outside the Blue Parrot bar, a pre-arranged meeting place that was conveniently located only two blocks from Juliet's townhouse. It was just after midnight, and he was clean-shaven, wearing the same grey suit, blue tie and horn-rimmed glasses he had worn to the Open House the previous day.

A green 2014 Ford Fusion shuddered to a stop not far from where he stood. He watched as the passenger door opened slowly, and a manicured hand waved him inside.

"Scorpio?" Barsad positioned his hand on the gun under his suit jacket as he peered in at the driver, startled by the sight of a glamorous woman behind the wheel.

Glossy black hair was pulled into a neat, high pony tail. She was slim, elegant, and dressed in a black designer pantsuit. She wore a pair of Manolo Blahnik pumps the same fiery colour as her lips and manicure. With her almond-shaped eyes and Mediterranean cheekbones, she was the living embodiment of a Robert McGinnis femme fatale, and Barsad suspected she was just as dangerous.

"Get in! I'm here to show you where and how you'll leave the city."

"I'm seeing a family resemblance here." Barsad observed slyly as he slid into the passenger seat. "Let me guess. You gotta be Fredo's daughter."

Fredo Bertolini was the man with whom Bane and Barsad found sanctuary after the League's failure in Gotham. The crime boss had jumped at the chance to expand his gambling, drugs and prostitution empire - offering the mercenaries a safe place at his sprawling mansion in return for the late John Daggett's third world territory. As soon as Bane was able to walk, he and Barsad moved on, uneasy about staying too long at the home of a high-profile crime figure.

"The very one. I'm Nico. And you must be John Barsad."

"Barsad nodded. "You know, you're the apple of your pop's eye. He talked a lot about you while Bane and I laid low at his place. But I gotta be honest. I was expecting 'Scorpio' to be a man." Bane's second-in-command was eager to stir the pot with the glorious black-haired siren.

"Look, my father's right hand men are always under surveillance. None of them can afford to be seen meeting a mysterious man at this time of night. That means I'm it. Now, it's after midnight, and I have a court date in the morning, so I can do without the cornball sexism."

"A court date? You in trouble, sister?"

"No, I'm a criminal defense attorney."

Barsad smirked. He had researched the entire Bertolini family inside and out while Bane considered making a deal with them. He knew very well the reputation of Nicoletta Bertolini, a rising star in Gotham City. She was the product of boarding schools and ladies' college and whatever else made her speak so eloquently and project so much confidence, class, and intelligence.

"And how is the mercenary feeling? Well, I hope. God, how I'd love to defend him in a court of law! I could get him acquitted."

"You just never mind how he is!" Barsad frowned. "Just because we handed Daggett's territory over to you, doesn't mean you get to ask nosey questions.

"He's had a lot of quiet time to think about how Talia al Ghul used him. What a shocker! The man is an absolute terror, and yet all along he was the pawn of a woman. Still, I can understand his attraction to her. I served on her charity ball committee for the last two years. She could be very persuasive in the most subtle ways! I envied her for that talent. Poor man - he could never say 'no', I suppose."

The uneasy Barsad attempted to put a stop to her assumptions.

"Watch your tongue, lady. All that stuff about them in the media is hearsay. He served Talia with honour." The sniper had no love for Talia al Ghul, but he would defend Bane's devotion to her to the death.

"Is he as madly attractive as he looks on tv? Because I could really go for him!"

"Don't waste your time. He's got issues. He does, however, have a handsome and unattached lieutenant waiting in the wings..."

If Nico recognized Barsad's blatant forward pass, she didn't bother to acknowledge it.

"Of course, he'd never get a fair trial in Gotham." She continued thoughtfully. "We'd have to move it to New York or Chicago, or to a smaller community. But I could definitely get him acquitted. Remember the last line in King Kong? 'It was beauty killed the beast!' I'd just build an strong case against a dead woman and her 'family business'. I do know a few things about family business, you know."

A fascinated Barsad stared at her in disbelief until a slow smile animated his thin lips.

"You know something, counselor? I'm beginning to like you."

Slowing her speed, Nico steered the vehicle off the freeway and on to an exit ramp that led to the Gotham Docklands.

"Welcome to Pier 19." She exited the car and gestured for Barsad to follow.

"The Repubblica di Genova docks here twice a month, enroute from eastern USA to West Africa. It's an older freighter that carries both cargo and passengers. You'll be met here by a man named Vito, who will oversee every detail of your passage. Neither you nor the mercenary will appear on the passenger list. Your luggage will remain with you at all times and will not be searched. You'll stay in the cabin reserved for all of our 'guests' who don't want to be found. No one will witness you boarding the ship, and no one but Vito will know you're aboard. He will deliver your meals and clean your cabin every day. He will be on call to you 24 hours a day. And he will see to it that you disembark discreetly in Dakar."

Barsad smirked. "You said 'we'. I'm assuming the vessel is part of the Napoli Shipping fleet, owned by your uncle?"

"Yes. Family business on my mother's side. Vito has been my uncle's trusted man since before I was born." The shiny black ponytail swung as she turned to face Barsad.

The second-in-command's cold blue eyes examined her carefully. "Is that so? He better be, because if we don't show in Dakar, a team of shooters has orders to come after you and your entire family. They're not as good as me, mind you, but they'll get the job done."

He'd made a similar threat to Juliet when he had wanted to keep her in line.

Heels sounded on the pavement as Nico sashayed toward him. Full-bodied laughter erupted from her exquisite throat.

"I was expecting you to threaten me. Rest assured you'll both make it to Dakar, safe and secure. It's my hope that this adventure will be the start of a beautiful relationship between my family... and yours."

"We'll decide who our allies are!" Barsad was glad it was dark, because his erection was pressing hard against the zipper of his dress pants.

"Well then!" Nico sighed. "Did you get all that? Is it committed to memory? If you have any questions, ask now because this is it. There will be no more information sessions. You and I are done after tonight, John Barsad."

Torn between wanting to seduce her and doing his duty, Barsad breathed heavily. He had been celibate for three months since the League's defeat.

But duty always came first.

He looked up to the heavens, savouring the beautiful, starry night after so many weeks of confinement. He then returned his gaze to Nico, who stood with her arms crossed, awaiting his response.

"The only thing you haven't told me is when this all goes down."


	7. Chapter 7

Juliet's meeting with Lucius Fox could not have unfolded more smoothly. While the pastries she prepared were in the oven, the sweet-toothed President of Wayne Enterprises conducted a formal job interview with her. Later, he enjoyed the samples she prepared for him and told her that he would contact her in a few days once he had made changes to the kitchen staff.

Suddenly her life was coming together again. If all went well, she'd get the job and a more stable life along with it. It seemed like a blueprint for happiness… except for the fact that she didn't exactly feel like jumping for joy.

She'd thought a lot about how she and Bane had fumbled the possibility of sleeping together. Bane had unexpectedly manhandled her, and she had reacted badly. He then suggested that they were destined for an affair, but she felt certain that it was never meant to be.

There was another reason for her blue mood. She'd learned that the mercenaries would be leaving soon. Barsad had left the house at midnight to meet with someone who provided him with the details of their departure. Juliet was still awake when the key rattled in the door as he returned hours later. She should have been relieved because it meant she would no longer have to live a lie. Jeffrey, Jim Gordon, and her friends at Eden Market deserved better of her.

It was one thing to harbour fugitives in her home; quite another to have an affair with one of them. She had wanted things to be different after liberation. The city's near-death experience had brought everything into focus, so why not wake up and live as if today were going to be her last? Why not flirt with the beautiful terrorist downstairs, and sleep with him?

Only now she'd come to realize that all her fanciful notions were born out of her own selfishness. Bane had proven himself to be a cruel man, committing terrible crimes against the citizens of Gotham. How could she possibly consider sleeping with him when he had destroyed the livelihood of so many citizens, unleashed the city's most violent criminals, and degraded the bodies of Captain Jones and his men? He had planned to torture the citizens of Gotham with hope and then pull the rug out from under them by blowing up the city.

Simply horrific.

It was high time to dispense with the fantasy of a love affair with this man, and the unrealistic impulse to reform him. She had no concept of what had driven him to commit such heinous acts, so it was absurd to even consider that she could save him from his past.

After months of fear followed by uncertain economic times, stability was within her reach. She wasn't going to blow it. She desperately needed structure, routine and income, and she needed to be with friends instead of isolating herself. And although she didn't deserve Jeffrey's loyalty after the way she had treated him, maybe – just maybe – he would forgive her and take her back.

Barsad lay flat on his back on the sofa bed, staring at the ceiling and obsessing about his failure to enchant the electrifyingly beautiful daughter of Fredo Bertolini. He had made it obvious that he was attracted to her, but his attentions had yielded zero results. He'd never had a problem charming the women of Gotham before, but it seemed Nico Bertolini was only interested in Bane, and what she could do for him.

"Let that be a lesson to you, brother," the masked mercenary taunted. "It seems you are not the lothario that you've always imagined yourself to be. Besides, I have said many times that any man who indulges his baser appetites is doomed."

Barsad sighed dejectedly. "Ordinarily, I would have made a hard-core effort to seduce her if the stakes weren't so high. But you know, I couldn't jeopardize our escape from Gotham. And I definitely didn't want to piss off her old man by making a move on her against her wishes. I really wanted her to hit on me!"

Bane groaned. "My heart grieves for you, and I thank you for your noble sacrifice in service of our mission. You always enjoyed plenty of female company while we reigned in Gotham. Your celibacy now will strengthen your resolve and produce a better man."

But the second-in-command continued to wallow in self-pity. "I've got this weird feeling that I'm finished – that I've lost my mojo. Nico didn't even acknowledge my interest in her! I feel so… rejected!"

Annoyed, Bane decided to take the conversation in another direction. "I for one will be glad once our journey is complete. We have relied far too much on the Bertolini family. The members of the Mafia are the bottom-feeders of the underworld," he observed scornfully. "Their methods are crude, and they lack vision. As soon as we are safely away in Dakar, our relationship with them is terminated."

Minutes later, Barsad fell into an exhaustive sleep in front of the tv. He'd been awake for 24 hours and could no longer keep his eyes open.

As the sniper began to snore, Bane turned his attentions to the stairs. It had been almost two days since he had seen Juliet. He smirked, imagining that she was avoiding him out of fear. He had made the mistake of pouncing on her in her bedroom, leading her to believe he meant to harm her. It could have been a serious blunder, but the upside was that he was in control now, because he had called her on her flirtatious games.

He knew she was in the kitchen. He could hear her moving about, and he smelled something vaguely sweet. She was cooking again, but he would put a stop to that. He was a man who never left a job undone, and although he encouraged Barsad's celibacy, he would deny himself no more. This was his moment, and he was eager to finish what he started the night before last.

This time he would not ascend the stairs silently as he had been trained to do by Ra's al Ghul. No, he would mount each step deliberately. She would hear his ominous approach, and she would cower in anticipation of the man who would appear at the door. Bane smiled, dropping his right foot heavily on the bottom step as his manhood swelled in his pants.

Juliet jumped at the sound of the heavy footfall. When it sounded again, she realized that someone - likely Bane - was climbing the stairs. In no way did the approaching stomp belong to John Barsad.

At the sound of a fourth footfall, it occurred to her that he was trying to intimidate her.

"Smartass!" She muttered under her breath as she stirred the custard she was preparing on the stove. This was the man who had terrorized Gotham, now reduced to childish pranks…

She would tell him just as soon as he came through that door.

She would tell him that she was glad he was leaving because she needed to rehabilitate herself. She needed to give back to the community after hiding the architects of Gotham's misery from the authorities. And, she would tell him that there was no more spark between the two of them because she had snuffed it out.

The noisy squeak of the sliding pocket door interrupted her reverie, and Juliet looked up from the stove to find Bane in full masculine glory. He was wearing the form-fitting black shirt that hugged every thrilling curve of his muscular physique. He stared, his chest heaving suggestively, and she felt her knees grow weak.

The mercenary's brow quivered, and there was a dangerous gleam in his eye. "Turn it off," he ordered, waving his forefinger at the saucepan on the stove.

"I… I can't! It has to be stirred constantly until it thickens or it will be lumpy." She knew she sounded ridiculous, but the very sight of him in the black shirt had robbed her of all poise.

"Leave the damned pot!" He growled.

The unemployed caterer uttered a nervous sigh as she removed the saucepan from the hot element and switched off the stove.

"Alright, then," she said, calming her nerves with the methodical removal and folding of her apron. When she was done, she set it neatly on the kitchen counter, and turned to him. "There. Are you satisfied now?"

Again, Bane smirked. He took another slow step towards her. "Not quite," he rumbled lowly. There was no mistaking the desire in his gaze.

"I...I don't like that look in your eye."

"You put it there, dear Juliet."

"Wait a minute," she gulped, holding him off. "You said you weren't like other men, and that sex was a pacification you didn't need…"

Amusement flashed in Bane's furrowed brow. "I said many things, didn't I? I have given all our conversations a great deal of thought. You say that war is inevitable, Juliet. The same can be said for us. I now believe your observations to be correct. Indeed I do want what every man wants, and I have come to collect."

"But, I... I have something to say." Her heart hammered uncontrollably in her chest and she was certain her voice sounded shrill and frightened.

"The time for talking is over, my dear. You have done entirely too much of it during my time in your home." The fingers at his sides twitched maniacally as he moved closer.

"I want to say that it's good that you're...I mean, I'm glad you're -!" She was supposed to be telling him that she was glad he was leaving, but she was babbling, thanks to a whiff of his scent - the devastating combination of gunpowder and leather. The butterflies in her stomach threatened to overwhelm, and her resolve ebbed like water swirling down a drain.

"It's just that I've decided…" She pushed her palms against his chest, steeling herself so her knees wouldn't give way.

Bane was leaving. It could be tomorrow, it could be the next day, or it could be next week. She was afraid to ask, and suddenly she felt very empty.

"Why do you tremble so," Bane rumbled, enjoying the sensation of her warm palms resting on his chest. "Where is that teasing woman of just a few days ago - the one who accused me of having the same dreams and desires as other men?"

Sighing in surrender, Juliet whispered into the mask. "She's right here, damn it, and since you're going to be leaving, she's decided that she doesn't want to have any regrets. Do you?"

Bane gasped, smug satisfaction shining in his dark eyes as Juliet leaped into his arms. In no time he had settled her on the kitchen counter and had begun to grope her hungrily.

Shocked by his intentions, Juliet protested. "No...not here! Barsad is downstairs!"

"Barsad will not disturb us," Bane rumbled. "He will be pleased – that is of course if he awakens from his deep slumber."

The mercenary reached behind her leg, passing the rough tip of his forefinger along the inside of her knee, moving upwards along her leg beneath the hem of her A-line dress.

"We will both enjoy this..." Bane murmured into her ear.

Juliet squealed into his shoulder at the sensation of his touch. "Shouldn't we go upstairs? Someone might come to the door!"

The mercenary greedily took the hem of her dress in hand, and in one fluid effort, tore it up the middle. He did the same with the white body shaper she wore underneath, revealing her breasts.

Bane smiled at his handiwork. "Do not be concerned, my dear." Gripping her milky white breasts, he played with the nipples until they hardened. "Risk of discovery will only enhance our pleasure."

Juliet sighed again and smiled. So much for going upstairs.

White hot pleasure shot through her core like molten metal. The mercenary had a touch like no other. Though his hands were roughened by years in the field, he used them like a pianist or a sculptor. Bane was an artist, and the sensations he triggered sent her hurtling into the stratosphere. She tugged at the hem of his shirt, her eager hands sliding underneath to explore his abdominals. Underneath the shirt, he was everything Juliet imagined him to be.

Bane groaned in approval of her actions, and the respiration of the mask escalated with his desire. His hands slid to her waist - a notoriously sensitive area for her and she squirmed in the embrace of his strong arms. He found her panties, tearing them off with one stroke of his finger. From there his extraordinary digit traveled to the sensitive area below her belly, and took its time driving her to distraction. He touched and teased, until she squirmed so much she slid off the counter. Bane set her feet down on the floor as he tossed off his shirt and slid his finger inside her. She was saturated.

Collapsing against him, her hands gripping his powerful biceps.

"I am a large man." He slid a second finger inside, stretching her further. "I could hurt you."

"I don't care." She breathed deliriously. "This is going to happen, do you hear?"

Bane could barely contain his male pride at her declaration. A zipper sounded, and in the next moment the mercenary lifted her off the floor, easing her over his erection. She gasped in both shock and fear at his initial intrusion. He was enormous, and yet somehow she managed to accommodate him.

Warm wetness coated his manhood as he pushed inside. He groaned when he felt her greedy softness take hold, and she wrapped her legs around him as if she would never let go. Bracing her backside against the edge of the counter, he began to thrust at an even pace.

Gasping, Juliet traced the long scar along his spine until her hands came to rest on his backside. Reveling in the feel of his muscles flexing with every thrust, she cried out again.

The ardent mercenary pushed her right leg up and away from him. With the new position he was buried deep, and pounding his lover relentlessly. Juliet met his increased pace, grinding shamelessly in pursuit of the perfect peak. Bathed in sweat and panting heavily, Bane grabbed a section of her hair, forcing her to look at him. Dark chocolate eyes captured deep green as they shared an exhilarating netherworld where each thrust took them higher and higher.

He'd never known such a feeling. An intense physical pleasure like no other, spreading throughout his core. Instantly addictive. Nothing mattered but the giving and receiving of pure pleasure. Barsad was right. Man was put on earth for one thing...

And it was the one thing that Talia had always denied him.

An exhausted Juliet realized she was close to the edge. "I..." she gasped.

Bane easily sensed her approach, encouraging her. "Come for me now, Juliet…" He whispered.

At his affirmation, her body seized and then shook with runaway sensations of pleasure. Burying her face in his shoulder, she screamed as she rode out the storm.

Bane's own climax beckoned, and he uttered a low growl as his seed shot into her. They clung to one another, panting with exhaustion.

On her feet again, Juliet positively glowed with a new emotion. Bane, too, was flushed from the exhilaration of sex. They stared into one another's eyes for a time, until Juliet entwined her fingers in his, silently leading him out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her bedroom.

Hours later, she lay over top of Bane's nude body, her dark hair spilling across his chest. She sighed as he gently stroked her naked back with his fingers.

"What am I to you, Bane," she asked softly. "A rebound affair?"

"Rebound affair?" The masked man's brow furrowed, and his hands stilled.

"A rebound affair happens when a long relationship comes to an end, and one of the parties enters into a new -"

Bane nodded, interrupting her. "I know what it is..."

"After your defeat, the media speculated that you were romantically involved with Talia al Ghul."

The mercenary blinked. He was no expert in navigating the troubled seas of the male-female relationship. How could he ease Juliet's fears…as well as his own?

"I assure you that my relationship with her never progressed as far as ours has today."

"But you wanted it to, didn't you?" She raised herself up and reached for a sheet to cover her nudity. Bane's uneasy expression was increasingly troubling to her.

Feeling helpless, Bane finally asked, "Why does it matter? She is gone."

"She's not gone." The green-eyed woman pressed two fingers against Bane's erratically beating heart. "She's in there. You just don't see her anymore."

Frustrated, Bane now understood why Barsad had often warned him never to become seriously involved with a woman. He'd already had a taste of it with Talia, and now the same thing was happening with Juliet. Women were complicated creatures.

He sighed, closing his eyes as he centered himself in thought.

He had made a great sacrifice for the daughter of Ra's al Ghul. If not for him, she would never have had the opportunity to continue the legacy of her father – the father she loved only after his death. Buoyed by the twin prospects of completing his work and vengeance against Bruce Wayne, she abandoned Bane at City Hall in order to secure the bomb. Crushing all his hopes and expectations, she said "Goodbye my friend", and left him to die with Bruce.

He brought himself back to the present and opened his eyes. "When I saw you that day at City Hall, I could not have anticipated that you would eventually ease me through grief and shame."

Eyes filling with tears, Juliet sighed. "Ohhh… you're so sweet," she whispered softly as she stroked the cylinders of his mask with the back of her hand

"I suspect you are correct. The League of Shadows' legacy is riddled with fairy stories, possibly invented by Ra's al Ghul himself. If he were alive today, he would be my sworn enemy for having cast me out. No matter that he rescued me from the pit. He betrayed me, and if I had it to do over, I would never blindly follow him. No, not even for her.

"But, she was your whole life, Bane…" Juliet cautioned. "The media said - "

"I protected her from the inmates who raped and murdered her mother. I raised her, and as she grew to womanhood, I…" Bane stopped for a moment, choosing his words carefully.

"I will always miss her, but I cannot carry on the work of a dead woman, as she did for her father. Bruce Wayne is dead, and there is no point. In answer to your previous question, yes, I wanted Talia. Indeed, she promised herself to me many times, but never delivered."

Juliet swallowed hard, somewhat shocked by his words. He'd raised her, and fallen in love with her.

"I…I'm relieved to hear it." She said frankly. "I'm sorry if that sounds selfish."

"Do not be sorry, my dear. Your honesty always pleases me." His eyes narrowed, and he slyly pulled the sheet away from her body, exposing her breasts to him again.

"Well, that's good!" She replied, deliberately pushing his hand away. "Because there's an elephant in the room that needs to be addressed."

"What elephant?" He growled, dreading another "relationship" question.

If not for the last few hours, she might have withstood Bane's departure. But now that she had slept with him, she was feeling even more vulnerable.

"This isn't just casual sex, Bane. It means something to me, and I think it means something to you too. So, I need to ask. If you are leaving Gotham, then what does it mean for us?


	8. Chapter 8

Formerly an abandoned garage, the popular midtown Italian restaurant Becco boasted a young and hip clientele, apparently unfazed by the rumours that its owner was an organized crime figure. The repurposed structure boasted two levels and a spectacular marble bar. Above the bar hung a massive glass and metal cabinet that housed all manner of beers, wines and spirits. At peak times the restaurant was so noisy that diners could barely hear one another speak.

The current lull in the restaurant marked the daily calm before the storm, at which time the dinner crowd would begin to pack the place.

Gotham City councillor Jeff Sorrento was the only figure seated at the bar, having just finished his second beer. He was miserable, missing his ex-fiancé Juliet and drowning his sorrows. They had come close to becoming husband and wife, but after Bane came to town, everything changed.

She had been fascinated by the mercenary and stirred by his charismatic speeches. Jeff refused to blame her for falling for Bane's politics, simply because the occupation had triggered unimaginable behaviour in otherwise decent people, such as those who had joined Bane's army and helped to tear down the city.

She had seen the light after Bane's defeat, once she began reading about his misguided devotion to Talia al Ghul and the League of Shadows.

Still, the damage was done. After liberation, she sought a new life, claiming she had changed. She broke their engagement, saying she didn't love him enough to marry him. For weeks Jeff remained in a state of denial, confident that she would return to him. When cold reality took hold, he became despondent.

If only he had insisted on a quick City Hall ceremony instead of a large church wedding, he might have been her husband now. Instead, he was a 30-year old bachelor in the prime of life, all alone on a beautiful, early summer evening.

Jeff looked up from his glass, his thought process interrupted by the self-assured tones of a woman who was not Juliet.

"Get some dinner, Dante. I'll take over."

The hipster bartender in the navy blue shirt nodded. "Thanks, Nico. Call when you need me."

Nicoletta Bertolini slipped behind the bar, spotting its lone patron – a sandy-haired, all-American jock. Recognizing him, she sized him up as in obvious need of attention and went to work.

"Hello, handsome. Since you're my only customer, how about I buy you a beer?"

Through the haze of two quick beers on an empty stomach, Jeff found himself face to face with a spectacularly beautiful, black-haired woman who looked vaguely familiar.

She was dressed in a sleeveless black mini-dress, and her glossy hair was gathered into a high ponytail. He knew the type. Privileged, with the best of educations. For a bartender, her speech was immaculate.

Except that she wasn't just a bartender. He was certain of that.

"Fine. Another Red Rocket, please."

Squinting, he pointed his forefinger at her. "I know you. I've seen you around the courthouse. You're that hot attorney – the one who defends Gotham's worst criminals."

She grinned at his unabashedly frank description, revealing white teeth behind generous ruby lips. "Why thank you, sir. I am indeed that attorney. And you're at City Hall, aren't you? Rumour has it that you're going to run for mayor."

Jeff shrugged. "Well, it's a few years off, but that's the plan. What are you doing behind a bar? Isn't criminal law lucrative enough for you?"

"My father owns this restaurant. I tend bar a few hours a week because frankly, it keeps me close to the street. That comes in handy in my profession."

"Admit it!" Jeff responded playfully. "With your looks, you must make a lot of tips."

Nico smiled again. Leaning forward, she rested her elbows on the grey-blue marble bar. She liked the man. He had a guileless manner that spoke to her inner Snow White.

"Oh no. I never accept tips. I'm a lawyer after all, and that could be seen as a conflict of interest. It's unethical." Her expression was sober, but there was a gleam in her eye that belied her words.

"Ha! What do you care about what's ethical? You're defending the Scarecrow, your father's a mobster, and this restaurant is a front for his business." Jeff Sorrento wasn't normally so blunt, but the beer had loosened his tongue.

Nico's throaty chuckle sounded in the quiet restaurant. "Now, now. Be nice. This is a legitimate business that employs 23 people."

"Sure it is," Jeff scoffed. "Except on the nights when the social club meets in the back of the kitchen."

By now the beautiful bartender was utterly enchanted.

"You know something? I think you're absolutely adorable! You're not anything like the guineas and goombahs in my world."

"Hey, those aren't very nice words." He scolded.

She poured him another beer and pushed it toward him. "So... what did you do before you were elected to council?"

Jeff hesitated for a moment, worried that the glamorous attorney might belittle his safe, relatively ordinary background.

"Ah, what the hell," he said aloud, looking at no one in particular. "I was a high school history teacher."

"Oh my goodness, I'm not the least bit surprised!" Nico sparkled with genuine enthusiasm. "You radiate honesty and decency and leadership. Exceptional qualities for our future mayor."

Jeff was taken aback, extremely flattered. "Well, thank you for the vote of confidence. I appreciate that."

"You're very welcome, Tiger. I'll tell you one thing – your wife is a very lucky girl."

He shook his head. "Uh-uh. Not married. I was engaged, but she broke it off."

Nico leaned further across the bar, her almond-shaped gaze seizing his sad baby blues.

"Is that so?" Her voice was low and seductive, her scent lingered in the air, and she was in the hunt. "Well, that's her loss, wouldn't you agree?"

Jeff took a long gulp of his third beer. "You're not gonna believe this, but Bane broke us up. The occupation changed her, and she didn't want to marry me anymore. I know there's another man because she kind of has a...secret smile."

Pouting sympathetically, the beautiful attorney stroked his cheek with her lacquered manicure. "Poor you!"

Jeff felt her breath graze his lips, and his sex-starved man parts began to stir. Either he was hallucinating, or this woman was trying to seduce him.

"Bane was a fascinating man, but he's dead."

It was a lie, of course. Bane lived, and Nico had arranged his impending departure from Gotham.

"You, on the other hand, are very much alive." She held Jeff's gaze as her willing red lips hovered tentatively over his. "Do you still love her?"

He hesitated again before answering. Wasn't it every man's fantasy to be seduced by a confident woman?

"Breakups are a shock to the system." He stalled.

"I can fix that." She slid her hand around the back of his head, capturing his lips in a slow, possessive kiss.

Never in a thousand years did Jeff Sorrento ever anticipate walking into a bar and hooking up. That wasn't the straight-arrow former school teacher's style.

But tonight he wanted it. Tonight he needed it. Tonight he deserved it.

"Feel better now?" Nico softly murmured the question.

Jeff straightened and opened his eyes. The councillor was feeling very good, and it wasn't just the beer. His lingering stress headache had disappeared, and his neck and shoulders felt completely relaxed and carefree for the first time in weeks.

"Definitely feeling better. Tell me, do you have any other special skills besides defending criminals and tending bar?"

Nico's easy laugh could be heard above the din of voices as the dinner crowd began to flow through the front door.

In one swift action she released her ponytail, and a glossy black waterfall tumbled to her shoulders.

"I'm afraid we'll need some privacy before I can share those." Her brow rose suggestively and her voice lowered again. "I know a place five minutes from here. I'll even make dinner."

Stunned, Jeff was beyond words, but his groin ached with desire. He couldn't believe his luck. Here was a woman who wanted him...

"Are... are you for real?"

Nico hovered over his lips once more. "Oh, darling!" She whispered. "If only you'd let me prove it to you!"

Jeff placed his palms on the bar and eagerly pushed himself out of his seat. "You talked me into it. Let's go!"

The triumphant Nico gestured to Dante, who had never stopped lurking nearby, and he took her place behind the bar.

Arm in arm, the two consenting adults exited through the glass doors of the restaurant and set off into the summer evening...

Barsad's eyes snapped open. For a fleeting moment he didn't know where he was, until he remembered that he was hiding out in the home of Juliet Marchand. Judging by the light in the basement unit where he slept, it was late afternoon. His body felt like dead weight. He'd been in a long, deep sleep since arriving home from his all-night meeting with the woman who had given him the details of his and Bane's journey out of Gotham.

All was silent in the apartment. Bane was obviously upstairs engaged in another battle of wits with Juliet. Although he had encouraged Bane to sleep with her, he hoped that the mercenary had not become too fond of her.

The sniper stretched as he headed to the bathroom for a hot shower, planning the meal he was going to make for himself. It was too late for lunch and too early for dinner, so he decided on breakfast - a bowl of bran cereal loaded with fruit. He prided himself on his healthy eating, knowing that Bane preferred salty bacon or steak alongside his morning eggs.

After his shower Barsad noticed Juliet's smartphone and laptop behind the bar. Bane had asked him to return them to her because he felt she could now be trusted with their secret. She was expecting a call from Lucius Fox, and Bane didn't want to stand in her way as far as her future livelihood was concerned.

Barsad gobbled his cereal, washing it down with decaffeinated coffee. He checked the refrigerator for supplies, and planned meals for the next few days. Whatever he needed he would ask Juliet to buy.

With laptop and phone in hand, Barsad bounded up the stairs, pausing suddenly as a thought occurred to him.

There was no sound in the kitchen. No voices, no movement - nothing.

Continuing up the steps, he pushed the squeaky door aside.

"Duchess? ... Bane?"

No answer. Curiously, the sniper slipped into the silent kitchen. It was relatively tidy except for a pot of dried pudding sitting on the stove. An apron and a few utensils sat on the counter.

He spotted Bane's black shirt, hanging haphazardly from a kitchen drawer handle and trailing to the floor. Almost obscured by the large shirt was a torn pair of blue women's panties on the floor beneath.

Barsad broke into a wide, calculating grin as he realized what had transpired.

Bane had done it! The celibate commander had finally gone rogue and had sex with Juliet.

But, he'd done it while the exhausted Barsad slept.

Annoyed, the sniper passed through the kitchen and stood in the hallway, staring up the stairs that led to Juliet's bedroom. He could hear them talking now. Low voices, the tone of which he could not determine.

Bane sat at the edge of Juliet's bed, dressed now except for the shirt that lay on the floor in the kitchen. Although he was uneasy, he insisted on being blunt.

"If I am leaving soon, then it means we must say goodbye."

Stunned, Juliet pulled a long shirt over her head and moved next to him.

"That's it? You got me into bed, and now you're telling me that we're never going to see each other again? I'm not the kind of woman who sleeps around, you know. I don't do this regularly."

"Nor am I promiscuous, Juliet, and I took no advantage of you. We made a mutual decision to lay together, did we not?"

"Well... where are you going when you leave here?

"I cannot say..."

"You're returning to your old life, aren't you? To the League of Shadows?"

"If I do, I will at last be my own man, with my own ideas and principles. I will honour Talia's sacrifice, but never again carry out the wishes of another."

Juliet was speechless and confused - the reason being that she didn't quite know what she wanted from him. Was she in love with Bane? Did she want to reform him? Did she want to leave her life in Gotham behind and follow him? Or did she want to convince him to stay, irrational as the concept seemed.

They both stood, and Juliet wrapped her arms around his neck, releasing a troubled sigh into his chest.

Barsad was eagerly awaiting Bane's appearance when, shirt in hand, the mercenary descended the flight of stairs into the downstairs apartment.

"You sly bastard!" Barsad charged. "I give you all kinds of advice and insight into women, and you go and wait until I'm asleep before you climb upstairs and make it with Juliet. That's the thanks I get?"

Bane's eyes smiled. "I never intended to deceive you, brother! I visited Juliet only to escape the sound of your snoring."

"If I weren't so happy for you, I'd really be pissed. So, tell me all about it, bro. Is she a screamer?"

Bane smirked beneath the mask. "I will leave that to your vivid imagination."

"Oh c'mon!" Barsad complained. "Can't you share just a little something? The earth moved, right?"

Bane stretched out on his bed, contemplating Barsad's question. He felt wonderful. His body was completely relaxed, his mind calm, his soul peaceful. He knew the feeling wouldn't last, given the fact that he would have to leave her soon. Still, he was euphoric.

"That would be an appropriate analogy, brother."

The following day, Juliet descended the stairs to thank Barsad for the return of her phone and laptop. She found him slumped in front of the flatscreen television, where an old black and white movie was just starting.

She glanced furtively across the room, where Bane sat on the sofa bed with a map spread in front of him. Hadn't he heard her come down? He seemed deep in thought and either didn't notice her, or had chosen not too.

"Sit down, Princess, and let's watch this together." Barsad said amiably. "I made sandwiches. Bane's already eaten, so help yourself."

"Okay, maybe just for a little while.."

"I'm going to miss these movies after we leave. There's no time to watch tv except the news in our line of work."

Again Juliet looked across the room at Bane, who was still fixated on the map and apparently making calculations.

Frowning, Juliet turned her attention to the film - a 1940s drama where everyone was wealthy and spoke fancy english. It told the story of an unmarried heiress dominated by her cruel mother, who became a new woman after a stay in a sanitarium. While on a cruise she began an idyllic affair with a married man. But civilization and its complications beckoned.

Barsad was fully engaged in the various twists and turns of the plot, as if his own life depended on the happiness of the lovers. Throughout the film he swallowed hard and discreetly rubbed his wet eyes, sensing doom as the finale neared. In the end, with too many obstacles in their way, the heiress looked into the eyes of her lover, and settled for mere friendship.

Don't let's ask for the moon. We have the stars.

Juliet blinked, as the last line of the film reverberated in her head.

Barsad's response was far different. He leapt out of his seat, and slammed a pillow to the floor, crying out in frustration.

"For fuck's sake!" He roared. "Do all these movies have to end unhappily? All I ever see are sad movies! What do I have to do to get a happy ending?"

The enraged sniper pulled a pistol from his backpack, threatening the inanimate flatscreen television.

"I want a happy ending, do you hear me?" He was shouting like a madman. "C'mon, man, give it up! Give me a happy ending or I'll shoot!"

A shadow rose, and Bane's robotized voice boomed loudly.

"Hand over the weapon, and calm yourself, brother! Don't be a fool. A gunshot will alert Juliet's neighbours, and all will be lost."

The sniper's lips trembled as he contemplated Bane's order. He inhaled, relaxed, and reluctantly passed the weapon over to his commander.

Bane retrieved the remote and switched off the tv, slipping both the remote and the gun into his pocket.

"That is quite enough entertainment for today." His voice was quiet and stern.

He noticed Juliet's distressed expression and sought to reassure her. "You must not fear Barsad, my dear. Despite what you have just witnessed, he will never harm you."

Preferring not to tell him the real reason for her misery, she merely nodded. "I have things to do. I'm going back upstairs."

After she'd gone, Bane rounded on his second in command. "This incarceration has been difficult for you, brother." He observed. "Unlike myself, you are not used to being confined. When we first arrived here, I was the patient. Now it is you who requires care."

Barsad was seated, with his head in his hands. "I gotta get out of here, Bane," he panted. "I need to fire a gun again. I need to shoot something. Am I going insane?"

"Take heart that our departure is imminent, but in the meantime, you must wean yourself off these films. They are not real, brother. The only world that is real is ours, and we are returning to it soon."

Days later, Jeff pulled into Juliet's driveway with an overwhelming urge to see her. Certainly it wasn't out of any desire to get even. He suspected she had a new boyfriend, but he couldn't possibly be resentful about it now - not after his wild nights with Nico.

He told himself that he only wanted to check in with her. He was worried about her continued lack of stability in post-Bane Gotham, and he only wanted the best for her.

"Jules! It's me!" He shouted as he pounded on the back door. She had taken his set of keys, and he could no longer just walk in as was once his habit.

Juliet's stomach dropped at the sound of Jeff's voice. She was upstairs, lost in the task of tidying her room when she heard him. Flying down the stairs, she fretted about the prospect of him wanting to go to the basement apartment for any reason, such as retrieving the weights he had left there.

Greeting him, she opened the door and ushered him inside.

"I hope you don't mind me dropping by." He said cheerfully.

"On no, it's alright." She muttered.

Jeff didn't fail to notice the nervous distraction in her eyes. "Listen, I just thought I'd drop by to see if you got that job at Wayne Enterprises. You didn't answer my call."

Juliet nodded. "Yes, I did get it. Mr. Fox called me this morning. I start in a few weeks. I'm going to be a pastry chef in the executive dining room."

Relief washed over Jeff's friendly face. "Oh, Jules! Really? That's wonderful... but you don't seem very excited about it. What's wrong?"

She couldn't tell him the truth - that she was conflicted about her relationship with Bane and where her future lay.

Sighing she said, "It's just that I never liked being a hired hand, but if it helps me get my business up and running again..."

"Well, I for one am happy and relieved for you! Don't you worry, it'll all work out." He pulled her into a big bear hug, which she returned warmly.

When they finally released one another, Juliet wore a look of surprise.

"You have a girlfriend?" The question escaped her lips before she could stop herself.

Jeff swallowed nervously. "What? No, no I don't, Jules."

"I... I smell perfume off you, and it's not mine because I don't wear it," she insisted.

Jeff sighed. He had never been able to hide anything from her.

"She's not my girlfriend, okay? We've had a few dates, that's all."

He wasn't being entirely truthful. Since meeting Nico, he'd had several erotic encounters with her.

"You shower and put on a clean shirt every morning, so if I'm smelling perfume, you must have seen her today."

"Okay." Jeff shrugged. "So we had lunch together."

"Lunchtime sex." Juliet frowned. "That's pretty intense."

Jeff's complexion reddened. "Now look - Jules..."

"I'm not criticizing you, Jeffrey! I just worry that it's too soon, that you're not ready for another relationship, and that you might get hurt."

Her ex-fiancé blinked at the irony of her words. "I'm already hurt, Jules."

"She sighed as her green eyes misted over, and she squeezed his hand. "Alright, Jeff. I know what I did to you."

"And Jules, just so we're clear, I know you're seeing someone as well, and I just want you to know that you have my blessing."

Stunned, she was completely at a lost for words. How did he know?

Like Jeff, she tried to deny it. "I... I think you're imagining things." She managed to say.

"No. No, I'm not. Why else would you take my key, and act like you don't want me around, as if you're hiding something. Remember the Open House? You were in a dreamworld that day. That can only mean another man."

"Jeffrey, don't rush to conclusions!"

"I don't have to." He said firmly. "It's okay, Jules. It's really okay. You deserve to be happy."

Minutes later, Juliet watched sadly as Jeff's Nissan Murano pulled out of the driveway.

Bane's mechanical bellow resonated from inside the squeaky door. "Surely your ex-fiancé is the noblest man in all of Gotham, now that Bruce is dead!"

A hot streak of desire burned through Juliet's belly as the mercenary sauntered towards her.

"Don't mock him." She admonished.

"I was not mocking him. On the contrary, I regard him as I would any competitor - as an enemy. You still care about him, and so I must ask the same question you asked me. What am I to you? A rebound?"

Of course not, Bane. I was over him months ago. That doesn't mean I can't worry about him."

Bane began to undo the buttons of her sleeveless blouse.

"I am afraid your words do not convince me, Miss Marchand. I require more physical proof." His hands eased the blouse off her shoulders.

He had only to touch her and she was putty in his hands. They had been enjoying marathon sex all week, each time more intense, exhilarating and meaningful than the last.

She knew now that she was too attached to him, and that she would be devistated when he left.

"Bane... I'm thinking maybe sex isn't such a good idea anymore, if there's no future for us. It's only going to make it harder for us to say goodbye."

The warlord slid his his rough hands around her waist as Juliet shivered.

"We are none of us promised tomorrow, my dear." He whispered. "There is only today, so let us live for today."


	9. Chapter 9

Bane tossed and turned in his sleep, caught in a strange netherworld from which he couldn't wake. He was standing before Talia on a moonlit beach, and she was not at all happy.

"So far you have failed to find Commissioner Gordon, nor have you been able to terminate the cat bitch." She charged. "Meanwhile, a cabal of rogue police officers track our trucks and keep us constantly on the move, when any sudden bump could detonate the bomb."

Bane didn't reply, because he knew she wasn't finished berating him. She was only warming up for the real reason why she was so angry.

The daughter of Ra's al Ghul, wrapped in a blanket, aggressively kneaded the warm sand with her bare toes as she continued to tear a strip off the hapless mercenary.

"And how do I find you while all this goes on?" She sneered. "I find you spilling your seed into that whore Juliet!"

Always a private man, Bane was mortified that Talia had discovered his secret. She was angry, so very angry, and now he knew how it felt to stand before a firing squad. It was only a matter of time until a bullet pierced his heart.

"How could you do this thing? How could you disgrace yourself with a common Gotham slut?"

Bane frowned at her unkind words. "She is no whore, Talia." Hearing his own soft voice, he realized he wasn't wearing the mask. "She is good."

"Is she, Bane?" She taunted. "What does one call a citizen of Gotham who sleeps with the enemy? A traitor? Perhaps she meets with Gordon in secret to reveal what she has learned during your pillow talk."

"I have never spoken of my work to her." Bane declared. "Not ever."

"Of course you haven't." Talia answered flippantly. "You're too busy pounding her like a rutting stag!"

Flinching at her vulgarity, he wished to be anywhere except standing before her now.

"People like us don't need sex, Bane." She ranted. "Members of the League of Shadows are above the weaknesses of the flesh."

"Then how do you explain your own dalliance with Bruce?" He braced himself for the harsh reaction that would surely follow.

"How dare you question me!" She hissed. "My seduction of Bruce was essential to our plan. I had to bring myself down to his level in order to engage him."

"We both know that it wasn't necessary." Bane argued. "He was fully captivated by the time he turned the Wayne board over to you. You did not have to spend the night with him."

A knowing grin swept across Talia's beautiful face. "I'm touched by your jealousy, my friend!"

"I only wish to point out your double standards."

"This is not about my double standards! We've known each other a long time, Bane. I never, ever thought my protector would disappoint me! I don't want this bomb to explode unexpectedly. It must detonate at the perfect moment, as my father would have wanted. So, what must I do to stop your distraction? What must I do to stop your disloyalty?"

The mercenary advanced on her angrily. The mask had returned to his face, along with his menace.

"What you must do is give yourself to me, as you have always promised." Bane's enhanced voice sounded ominously above the crashing of the waves.

His words gave her pause, and she stared at him thoughtfully.

Then, just as he expected her to come up with another of her excuses, she surprised him.

"Very well." She loosened her hold on the blanket, and allowed the night breeze to toss it off her shoulders and into the sand.

Bane was shocked to see that she was completely naked. The ends of her chestnut hair, tossed by the breeze, grazed the raised nipples of her ample breasts.

He hadn't seen her bare since she was a child. Now the old longing that had begun with her puberty surged uncontrollably inside him.

"Take me, Bane. It's what you've always desired, and I want to keep my promise to you."

"Here?" Bane demanded. His own clothing had suddenly disappeared, and he was as naked as she. "On the beach?"

"Don't be so puritanical, my friend. It's now or never." It was a typical Talia ultimatum, designed to control him.

Growling, Bane grabbed her arm and lowered her onto the blanket. Once she was down he stood over her, proudly dominant with an erection in full flight. At long last he was going to get what he had always wanted - the chance to prove himself a superior lover to all the other men in her life throughout the years.

"Come to me, Bane." Talia reached out to him, spreading her legs up and out.

He dropped to his knees eagerly, elbows in the sand on either side of her as he salivated under the mask.

There was no foreplay, no kissing, no tenderness. Only the unrestrained release of his longstanding lust for her. The mercenary winced, and rammed his thick member into her with a force that surprised even him.

He expected pleasure but felt absolutely nothing, and when he finally opened his eyes Talia and the beach were gone. In their place a concerned Barsad stood above him.

"Man, neither one of us is enjoying good mental health these days! You were having another dream, brother!"

Bane sat up in bed, gasping for breath as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"She… she haunts me still!" He groaned.

Sighing, Barsad sat on the bed next to him. "Wanna talk about it?"

Bane nodded. "It was strange, as are all dreams... One moment I did not have my mask, and then I did. Then my clothing was gone."

"Who else would haunt your dreams, but Talia." Barsad observed.

"Yes..." Bane croaked, his voice still raspy from sleep. "She discovered Juliet and I together." There was genuine humiliation in his eyes, as if the incident had actually occurred.

The sniper smirked. "You mean, while you and Juliet were screwing?" He shook his head in disbelief and whistled enviously. "I gotta hand it to you, Bane. You have the best dreams!"

"She was angry, brother. She accused me of disloyalty, and categorized me with unflattering language." She was never that severe with me while she lived."

"And then what happened?"

"I will not say. It is too terrible to contemplate."

"Let me guess. She felt threatened, so she finally let you fuck her." Bane's rising colour and prominent erection told Barsad everything he wanted to know.

"The dream is all about guilt, Bane. You think you're being disloyal to Talia by sleeping with Juliet. Well, Talia's gone and she's not ever coming back. You shouldn't feel guilty for expressing yourself as a man, because she never allowed you to be one with her."

"I do not feel guilty for expressing myself as a man." Bane insisted. "But I cannot control my dreams. That is because she is not gone, brother. She is right here", he said as he indicated his heart. "Juliet said as much."

"Yea, but Talia took advantage of your feelings for her, Bane. She had no intention of ever sleeping with you. You were just a poor orphan bastard from the Pit, and she preferred billionaire playboys. And as for Juliet, we're leaving, so it's the end of your thing with her. Enjoy your memories and shrug off the guilt, because it's extra baggage you don't need."

Bane felt a coldness take hold in his heart. He was approaching the end of his time with Juliet. How swiftly it had flown, but it was a fact that he could not take her with him, nor could he stay with her in Gotham. There were logical reasons for his resolve that they should part. Surely Talia's hold on him had nothing to do with his decision...

The mercenary nodded reluctantly. "Tomorrow we break camp." He said stoically. "Time to begin packing our things, brother."

Jeff Sorrento dressed for work in the sleek, modern apartment belonging to Nico Bertolini. It was a constant surprise to him that he had been practically living with her since they met. He wasn't the type to rush into an affair with a woman he barely knew, but he had endured a rough few months after Juliet broke up with him, and the very attentive attorney was just what the doctor ordered.

"Lunch as usual?" He asked cheekily. He was standing in front of a huge mirror in the hall of Nico's spacious apartment, with a grey tie draped around the collar of his crisp white shirt. As Juliet had suspected, he and Nico had been meeting for lunch hour sex every day.

"I'm so sorry, darling, but I can't today! GCN is interviewing me about the trial, but I promise I'll give you all kinds of attention when I get home tonight." She winked at him as she helped him knot his tie.

"Aren't you famous enough, already?" He asked playfully. "Do you really want to break our lunch streak for a silly tv interview?"

"Why, do you think it will bring us bad luck?"

"No..." He laughed. "Don't be silly, Nico."

A shadow crossed the attorney's beautiful face. Something had been weighing on her mind, and she wanted to bring it out into the open.

"Jeff, let's run away. Let's find our own private island. I've got money, and we could spend the rest of our lives in paradise with no one to bother us."

"Only in your dreams." Jeff laughed.

Nico's frown deepened, and she lowered her voice.

"No. I really mean it. Let's go away together, where no one can ever find us. Fiji, South America…"

Now it was Jeff's turn to frown. "Nico, I'm a public servant. I love my job. I can't spend the rest of my life doing nothing, and you're the same. You thrive on what you do, and you have Scarecrow's trial coming up. So, what's this all about?"

Nico sighed and shook her head. "I don't know... It's just that every now and then I have this awful feeling of dread, as if something terrible is going to happen."

"Well then maybe you ought to give up defending gangsters and try being on the right side of the law for a change." He suggested. "If you keep company with those people long enough, you're going to become one of them."

"I'm already one of them, Jeff." She replied grimly. "It's my birthright, but since meeting you I know it's not what I want for my life. Maybe I'm feeling vulnerable because I've finally met the man of my dreams, and I'm scared I'll lose him."

"Nico…" Jeff cautioned. "Slow down. We're practically strangers."

"I knew on the day we met that you were the one, Jeff. Besides, sex twice a day ever since hardly makes us strangers! We could be so happy. I'll cook for you, have your babies…"

"Hey hey hey, you're going way too fast for me! I'm an old-fashioned guy. If we're going to enter into a permanent relationship, then I want to be the one who does the asking. Until then, let's just take it one day at a time, okay?"

"I'll do whatever you say, darling." She buried her face in his chest, and when Jeff wrapped his protective arms around her he realized she was trembling. This was a side of her that was new to him – submissive and scared.

The next day Juliet didn't see Bane until late in the evening. She'd been out most of the afternoon, and when she arrived home, she sorted out pastry recipes that she hoped to use at Wayne Enterprises.

She heard the usual movements and voices downstairs, but on this day Bane and Barsad seemed to be making an effort to avoid her. Their absence made her uneasy, given that she knew they would be leaving soon.

Bane had already indicated that they would have to say goodbye. If he had wanted her to go with him, he would have said so. And even if he had, could she really abandon her life in Gotham to follow him?

She wondered how they planned to leave. Would they steal away in the night while she was asleep? She almost thought it would be better just to wake and find them gone.

She was about to go to bed, when she heard Bane's lazy footfalls coming up the stairs. Her belly twitched and her goosebumps rose as she opened the bedroom door and ushered the shirtless mercenary inside.

"I'd given up hope of seeing you today." She said. "I was thinking that maybe you were deliberately avoiding me."

The mercenary had a predatory gleam in his eye, and Juliet grinned eagerly as he turned and backed her up against the bedroom wall.

"Barsad and I were busy with details. That does not mean I was avoiding you." His brow furrowed suggestively, and she felt herself growing hot with desire.

"Were these departure details?" She knew nothing of the how and when of their leaving - only that Barsad had met with someone who had arranged it, and that it would happen soon.

Bane frowned. "Your preoccupation with our leaving will only inhibit our pleasure. We do not want that, do we?"

The roguish tone of his voice thrilled her, but she pressed on.

"You say that all the time, but sooner or later it's going to be our last time. Is this our last time, Bane?"

In answer to her question, the mercenary growled as he tore her sleep dress in half, pleased to see that she was completely naked underneath. Groaning euphorically, he cupped her breasts. He looked forward to the moment when his lips would make contact with the soft mounds. He had not yet revealed his unmasked face to her, but on this night, he would.

"All I'm going to have left after you leave is a lot of torn clothing." She murmured, meeting his lustful gaze with her own.

His greedy hands left her breasts, and trailed down her stomach. She shuddered, offering little resistance as Bane slipped his fingers between her legs.

She gasped when one rough forefinger slowly penetrated her. Instinctively she rose, her back sliding upwards along the wall where he had pinned her, and her breath caught in her throat. "Ooohhhhh..." She sighed.

She raised her right leg along the wall, spreading herself for him as she braced the heel of her foot over the knob of the closed bedroom door.

Her compliance roused Bane, and he groaned enthusiastically as he plunged a second finger inside while his thumb massaged her sensitive hot spot.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed her face into his powerful neck and whispered, "Bane... I don't want you to leave."

She didn't care how needy or irrational she sounded. She wanted him.

"Do not talk." He ordered her hoarsely. "Feel!" He removed his saturated fingers, unzipped his pants and pushed inside her. Her nails bit into his shoulders at the now familiar sensation of his swollen member penetrating her heat. It was always an arduous journey for each of them. Bane worried about hurting her, and Juliet struggled to contain him. But once he was inside, she grew wetter and wetter around him.

Bane hoisted her backside with one powerful arm, hoping to take the pressure off her extended leg. With their bodies perfectly joined, their hips began to move in a slow rhythm. Bane revelled in her scent and the softness of her freshly showered skin.

He would miss this. He would miss her. But there was no getting around the fact that they had to part ways.

The reality of their situation only fuelled his desire, and Bane adjusted himself. With his left hand planted firmly against the wall, he allowed her feet to touch the floor. Taking her right buttock in hand he increased his pace, going harder and deeper with every thrust.

The unmistakable sounds of sex filled the room. Frenzied sighs and moans reverberated as the doorknob rattled under Juliet's foot and her back bounced off the wall.

Two floors down, Barsad listened eagerly, sliding his hand inside the zipper of his jeans to pleasure himself.

A bullying, throbbing heat rose within Juliet, and she knew her moment was at hand, no matter how much she wanted to delay it.

Sensing she was ready, Bane snarled, grinding into her again and again until he felt her vibrate around his punishing cock.

When she could no longer fight off her release, Juliet collapsed against his damp chest and allowed it to wash over her. Bane continued to thrust into her, groaning loudly as his hot seed seed filled her.

They lay in each others's arms, enjoying the feel of their damp skin and the sound of their beating hearts. Bane lifted her to the bed and laid her down. He unfastened the buckles of his complicated back brace and allowed it to drop on the floor, followed by his cargo pants. He was completely naked, and still hard. Methodically, he popped the latches of the mask and peeled it off his face.

Stunned, Juliet stared not at the obvious scarring on his nose and mouth, but at the unexpectedly beautiful and benign face behind the mask. How could it possibly belong to the man who had acted so cruelly in Gotham?

"We do not have much time." Bane cautioned her. "I will need to return the mask to my face."

"Why?" She whispered. She had heard various news reports that speculated on the function of the mask, many of them concluding that it was a breathing apparatus.

"You have seen the scar along my spine, which is the result of an incompetent doctor's butchering. I was brutally beaten for saving Talia's life in prison. The mask delivers an analgesic mist that enables me to function without pain."

He had only ever spoken briefly of his time in the Pit, and she had always sensed there was a lot of pain and anger in his past that had informed his savagery in Gotham. There was so much about him that she didn't know, and would never truly understand, and there was nothing she could say in sympathy that wouldn't come off as sounding hollow and simplistic.

"Come here, then." Juliet pulled him into a slow, deep kiss. Bane's ardour quickly overcame any self-consciousness he experienced over his scarred lips, and he returned her kiss with an urgent fervour. Soon his mouth was doing what he had always imagined - trailing down her neck, taking in the taste of her skin. He found her left breast and greedily sucked the nipple, as Juliet sighed. Near delirious with renewed arousal, his lips travelled kiss by kiss down her flat stomach. He felt her tremble as his mouth moved below her belly. He wanted so much more, but time had run out.

Bane lifted his head and gasped weakly. His right arm reached for the mask and wrapped it around his face once more.

With alarmed eyes Juliet watched his distress dissipate as he began to inhale his medicine. She cradled him against her chest as the reality of his burden hit home. Now she understood why he had chosen this moment to unmask himself.

Devastated, she stared at the ceiling, finally speaking in a hushed tone.

"This is goodbye, isn't it?"


	10. Chapter 10

Bane stood at the bar in Juliet's downstairs apartment, stuffing the books he had brought with him to Gotham into a duffle bag.

Meanwhile, Barsad worked behind the bar, scrubbing the tiny kitchen. He wanted it to be thoroughly cleaned for Juliet, as if he and Bane had never been there.

Across the room, Juliet's grey tabby cat yawned and stretched, rising from his bed and trotting eagerly toward Bane. The feline sensed change was afoot, and he leaped onto the countertop, purring as he pushed his warm nose firmly against Bane's open hand.

Strangely touched by Stripe's show of affection, Bane stroked the soft fur between his ears.

"I shall miss you too, little one." He rumbled.

Once night had descended, the mercenaries packed their bags into the trunk of Juliet's car while she stood watching from the darkness of her kitchen. She had purposely left the kitchen and driveway lights switched off, not wanting her neighbours to notice any unusual activity.

She'd spent the entire day thinking about the night before. Bane had revealed his face to her, albeit briefly. She would never, ever forget that face, because she'd always imagined him as having a shrewd, calculating expression, and a cruel mouth.

She couldn't have been more wrong. With a face such as his - so sweet and innocent despite the scars - how could he not have a good heart? Surely she could turn that heart away from the League of Shadows?

The prospect grew more and more appealing as the day progressed, until it occurred to her that maybe she had it all wrong.

Maybe it was she who should acclimate to his world, accepting him as a terrorist and a murderer if she wanted to be with him. Could she do that?

She also had to consider the notion that the League of Shadows offered Bane everything he wanted out of life, and that he simply might not want, or need her in his world. His determination to return to the League, and hesitance to talk about it was evidence enough.

After the mercenaries had finished packing the car, both men descended to the basement for a final check to ensure that they hadn't left anything behind. When they returned, Bane's fingers gestured to Juliet.

"Come!" He ordered.

Numbly, she pulled on a jacket, locked the kitchen door, and climbed into the driver's seat of her car.

"Shove over and strap yourself in, Duchess!" Barsad said. "I'll drive."

Relieved, she moved into the passenger seat and clasped her seatbelt together with trembling hands. Bane sat in the back, directly behind her. She spotted him in the rear view mirror, and noted that he wore an oversized coat with a large hood that concealed his head and mask.

The ride from her Corktown home through downtown Gotham was fraught with an audible silence. It made Bane feel very uncomfortable, and he was grateful when they entered the South Street Tunnel, where noise and artificial light scrambled his thoughts and emotions.

As Juliet stared at the traffic ahead, she wondered if anyone else on the road was in crisis, as she was. She hadn't asked for an impossible love affair but she'd had one just same, and now it was time to let go.

Eventually they left the tunnel and headed for the Narrows, where the mercenaries expected to board a ship.

Desperately wanting to break the silence with casual conversation, Barsad pointed at a large, crumbling structure that look haunted.

"That's Arkham Asylum. While we were running Gotham, we discovered that they allow patients out for the day. They roam the waterfront, begging, harassing and picking pockets, so they were our kind of people. We just let them run rampant."

Barsad's words were met with more silence, so he tried another tactic.

"Yeah, those Arkham people are bad apples. They might try to roll your car, so you get out of here as fast as you can, Duchess. It'll be dawn soon, and they'll be on the move.

"Okay." Juliet answered softly, still staring ahead.

Barsad approached Pier 19 and switched off the ignition well before the gate.

"No lights." He cautioned. They exited the car and removed their bags from the trunk. Both men carried guns in their free hands.

Up ahead, a figure appeared from behind the gate. He was carrying a flashlight, and was wearing a red wool toque and blue overalls.

"That's him. Our man Vito Biamonte. Nico told me he'd be dressed like that." Barsad observed.

Juliet set her gaze above and beyond the man, distracted by the shadow of a large freighter in port. Her heart sank at the sight of it.

"Why couldn't you have taken a plane or a car out of Gotham?"

"The authorities would expect that from us, Juliet." Bane replied, speaking to her for the first time since they left the house. "Travel by air and car are certainly the more predictable methods of escape. That is why the authorities still monitor the city's exits and airports. The docklands aren't as well policed, because they wouldn't expect us to take a long sea journey."

Juliet nodded bleakly.

"Duchess, I'm gonna say goodbye now." Barsad said reluctantly. "I don't want to drag this out but damn, I'm gonna miss you. You're a great sport and a good cook, sweet thing. Not as good as me, of course, but you'll do!"

"I'll miss you too, and your recipes, even though you put a gun to my head." She forced a smile and hugged him warmly.

"Thanks for all you did for us, doll. I won't forget it." Barsad pulled away from her self-consciously and turned, gathering all the bags save for the one on Bane's shoulder as he headed in Vito's direction.

"Goodbye!" She called to him. "Safe travels!"

Barsad didn't look back. She was alone now, facing Bane in the darkness. He had removed the hood so that he could see her more clearly.

"I never gave you false hope..." His words trailed off as regret shone in his eyes, and he cursed himself for being a novice on the subject of the male-female relationship. Bruce would know how to say goodbye...

"You didn't." She agreed. "We both know that I can't go with you. After all, what do we really know about one another? We came together in very unnatural circumstances. Your world is so different than mine, and I can't change who I am any more than you can change who you are. There would be no guarantees for us going forward, would there?"

A muffled sigh of relief sounded from inside the mask.

"You're returning to a way of life that I can't condone." She continued. "I don't know where you're headed, but if I were to go with you we'd probably spend a lot of time apart. Where would I wait for you, and what would I do all that time? Eventually we'd grow to hate one another, isolated by distance and circumstance."

Bane nodded reluctantly. "You would be in danger if my enemies found out about you. They would want to kill you in order to break me. There are other obstacles as well. Gotham is your life, Juliet. You have a chance to begin again, rebuild your business, keep your house. You have spoken of this desire incessantly, so I cannot take that from you. And lastly, you deserve a whole man - not one dependent on a mask and analgesics."

Twenty-four hours ago they'd engaged in all-night, farewell sex. As much as she wanted to, she didn't dare throw her arms around him now, fearful that she would lose control and become a sobbing mess, begging him not to go. She knew he wouldn't want that.

Instead she took his warm, rough hand in hers.

"When I first saw you at City Hall, I fantasized that I could reform you. I know now that it's impossible. Even if I could, you can't stay here with me. We'd be in hiding for the rest of our lives, and that's no way to live. I also believe Talia still looms large in your life, and I understand. Bane, it really is best for both of us that we part."

Bane's mask wheezed unsteadily, and he nodded reluctantly.

"Then it is settled." He said after a pause.

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat but it would not go down.

"I just wish we could stay in contact." She said as she blinked back tears.

"We have been over this, my dear. The authorities will eventually learn that I am not dead, and they will want to know where I was hiding in Gotham and how I escaped. I do not want them tracing me to you. You could go to prison."

"Can't we at least communicate by snail mail?"

"Juliet...no. It is too risky."

"But, I'll never know for sure whether you're dead or alive!"

"It is best that you not know. You must always think of me as still living, and I will think the same of you."

Juliet glanced downward, shuffling her feet. "Okay." She replied awkwardly, her lower lip trembling.

"Go now!" Bane ordered gruffly as he waved his forefinger in the direction of her car. He couldn't bear the sight of her eyes brimming with tears, and fought to suppress his own emotions. "Lock yourself in your vehicle and leave. The sun will rise soon, and the Arkham inmates will come. I do not want you to be assaulted."

For one last time they stared into one another's eyes, their chests heaving with emotion. A single tear spilled down her cheek and she let go of his hand, abruptly turning on her heel to make her way back to the car.

Later, she wouldn't remember the walk to the car - only that by the time she locked herself inside he had turned his back on her, his lumbering gait taking him further and further away.

"Everything okay?" Barsad asked concernedly as the mercenary approached him.

Bane grunted miserably, filled with self-loathing. His own second-in-command had made the effort to hug Juliet, but he couldn't bring himself to do the same because he was uncertain of the outcome. He might have behaved irrationally, throwing her over his shoulder and taking her with him.

"Good morning, Gents." Vito greeted them. "About time you two got here. I hate to break up this touching scene, but we have to get aboard that ship. Before we do, Mr. Bertolini asked me to give you this parting gift, with his compliments." The man produced a small box.

Barsad immediately pulled his gun on Vito, sensing danger. "Hey, what the hell are you up to?" He threatened angrily.

Undeterred by Barsad's weapon, Vito calmly opened the box and produced a small urn.

"Mr. Bertolini has friends at the morgue. He thought you might want the ashes of Talia al Ghul."

Barsad thrust his pistol into the man's face. "How do we know that's her?" He demanded roughly.

"Calm yourself, brother." Bane growled. He took the urn from Vito, and clasped it tightly in both hands. Images of Talia flashed through his mind. Hadn't he endured enough regret for the night?

"You will thank your master for me." He ordered coldly.

Vito nodded, unconcerned by the menacing mask partially hidden by Bane's hood. "This way, paisans, and I'll get you on board."

From inside her car, Juliet squinted, watching the gate close, the light fade, and all three figures disappear from sight.

Physically spent from holding back her emotions, she laid her head on the steering wheel and began to cry. She thought of how she'd first encountered Bane at City Hall, and how she had fantasized that only she could reform him. It had all been a foolish dream. Reality had reared its ugly head. The logistics were all wrong, and there was no future for the two of them.

She sobbed so hard that she hiccoughed for breath. She didn't know how long she'd been crying, but when she heard firm tapping on the car window, her heart soared.

It was Bane! He'd come back for her, and somehow they'd find a way to make it work...

The sun was rising as a joyful Juliet rolled down the window, but reality wasn't done with her yet.

Instead of Bane, she was confronted by the stern visage of a Gotham City police officer, who stared with concern at her red eyes and tear-stained face.

"Are you alright, ma'am?"

"Um... I just lost someone..." She said hastily as she wiped her face with her sleeve.

"I'm sorry to hear that." the sympathetic officer said. "But you shouldn't park here. This is a dangerous neighbourhood."

"I know." Juliet replied. "Arkham patients." She peered through the windshield and saw that the ship was now well out into the bay. Bane was truly gone from her life.

"Are you alright to drive?" The officer inquired.

"Yes. I'm fine."

"Okay then, off you go! I'll follow you."

Juliet started the car and pulled out of Pier 19, followed closely by the police officer. He stayed with her through the South Street Tunnel, and when it seemed he trusted her to get home safely on her own, he pulled up next to her and waved as he drove off. It never occurred to her until later that the officer may have been on to her, and was going to arrest her for harbouring fugitives. She had been too caught up in her loss.

Arriving home, she climbed the stairs to her room and collapsed on the bed, where Bane's scent still lingered.

After a uneventful two-week journey that found them making a brief stop in Amsterdam, Bane and Barsad took refuge at the League safe house in Dakar, where Bane immediately assumed leadership. They were greeted with a heroes' welcome by the staff, who had long hoped that they were alive. They had failed in Gotham, but the fact that they had returned alive was a triumph in itself.

While on board the ship, the mercenaries had learned from Vito that Fredo Bertolini now controlled the remains of Daggett Industries in West Africa, having sent a team of lawyers and enforcers to take control of its mining operations. It was what Bane had promised him in return for sanctuary in the man's home while he and Barsad recovered from injury.

But Bertolini also wanted a piece of West Africa's thriving casino business, and hoped for Bane's help, which the mercenary was adamantly against. His League of Shadows would not be in the casino business, nor would it be involved in the casino sidelines of drugs and prostitution.

Thus, the plan of action at the safe house was to recruit and train an army, with the aim of ousting Bertolini. There would be no casino, and the mining operations would fall into Bane's hands. The monastery would have to wait until their mission in Dakar was complete.

One night after a hearty dinner, Bane and Barsad sat in the cozy sitting room before a roaring fire. The ashes of Talia al Ghul rested on the mantlepiece - a place of honour on which the caretakers of the safe house had insisted.

Barsad sighed contentedly. "I think we've assembled a pretty good crew so far. It feels great to be on the job again, brother, after months of confinement."

Bane looked up from his copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray. "Indeed it does. I feared we might have grown rusty, but all is as it was once was. I feel strong and ready."

"I understand why you're against the casino, Bane, but honestly, I might have enjoyed it. Where else can you find so many beautiful women?"

"There are plenty of other casinos in Dakar for you to indulge your shameless activities." Bane scowled. "Please do not relate any stories of your conquests to me!"

"Okay then." Barsad said "Let's talk about Juliet. What do you think she's doing right about now?"

This time Bane didn't look up from his book.

"I would imagine she is asleep, given that the current time in Gotham is 1:30 a.m." The mercenary blinked, and pulled a cell phone out of his pocket.

"Which reminds me, brother. As per our many conversations, we have unfinished business in Gotham." Bane tossed the phone to Barsad.

Barsad frowned, scratching his beard and shaking his head sadly. "You're killing me, brother."

"We do what is necessary!" Bane reminded him sternly. "Make the call."


	11. Chapter 11 - Epilogue

Chapter 11 - Epilogue

Bane and Barsad estimated a two-year stay in Dakar. Breaking the Bertolini family's hold on Daggett's former mining operations would take time, given the fact that the family had recruited a local militia to enforce its rule. The mercenaries decided to take their time in recruiting and training men, and in the end their patience would be rewarded. Eventually, the militia would be driven back and the mining operations would fall into Bane's hands. When he was confident of his army and the staff in place, he and Barsad would move on to the monastery in the mountains, which had been rebuilt in the wake of the damage inflicted by Bruce Wayne years before.

At the monastery, Bane would play the role of scholar. First and foremost, he was duty-bound to record the history of Talia's assault on Gotham, but he would do so without the lies and exaggerations of Ra's al Ghul's historians. He would boast only in regard to his own personal accomplishments. He also toyed with the idea of writing his memoirs.

Juliet's job at Wayne Enterprises provided a welcome distraction from her departed mercenary lover, and everything in his wake...

Her day began at 8:00 am, and she usually arrived home late in the afternoon. The work was exhausting, and sometimes she felt overwhelmed by the heat of the 30th-floor kitchen ovens. On most days she collapsed upon arriving home, needing a nap before dinner.

Sometimes at the end of the workday, an elegant black-haired woman entered the elevator on the 25th floor. She was always immaculately dressed in an expensive suit, and carried a leather briefcase. To Juliet's great interest, the woman also carried a Birkin bag.

"I've never actually seen a real Birkin bag before!" Juliet enthused, striking up a conversation with the glamorous woman. "Do they really cost $20,000?"

The woman broke into an ironic smile.

"I don't really know." She admitted, allowing herself a rare giggle. "It was a gift from a client..."

In no time at all Juliet Marchand, pastry chef at Wayne Enterprises, had struck up a friendship with Nicoletta Bertolini, partner at Romano, Rossi and Hagen. The two women often enjoyed a brief chat in the elevator before leaving the Wayne Building at the end of the day.

The shooter watched patiently from his corner on the rooftop of an empty building that was slated for condo development.

He was a League man. He had orders to kill, and he had been watching his target for days. He was in a perfect position for the job at hand. The Wayne Building stood at an angle across the street from him.

In the unlikely event that his siege of Gotham failed, Bane had appointed the shooter - along with 11 others - to stay behind and maintain a League foothold. As it happened, the siege had failed. Since liberation, the shooter and his colleagues had infiltrated the city as ordinary citizens. He rejoiced in the fact that he would never have to return to the monastery. Why the League bothered to rebuild the cold hovel in the mountains was beyond his comprehension. He was an American, and he craved the excitement of bright lights and the big city.

He had no idea when or if Bane planned to return to finish the job in Gotham, but he would keep his skills sharp. He had secured a well-paying construction job which, along with his League salary, provided an above-average living. Gotham's nightlife had returned in full force, and he had a string of girlfriends.

Peering into the eyepiece of his Barrett M107, he waited for the appearance of his female target. At the same time, one of his colleagues was scheduled to carry out a similar assignment a few blocks away.

He checked the time on his cell phone, and knew that his target would show up soon.

As he had always suspected, Bane and his annoying lieutenant had survived and escaped the city, thus the shooter wasn't surprised when the lieutenant called him out of the blue to order the hit. During the League's reign in Gotham, the lieutenant had frequently reminded the shooter that although he was an excellent shot, he wasn't the best.

The shooter's target came into view, and he swore softly when he realized she walked with another woman. He was to fire only one shot and had a limited window in which to complete the job. If he missed and hit the wrong woman, the lieutenant would never let him hear the end of it.

"Fuck you, Barsad!" He muttered aloud.

He watched patiently as the two women stood in the public space, continuing their conversation for about 30 seconds before waving goodbye to one another.

The other woman disappeared down a flight of subway stairs, much to his relief.

Now he had the target all to himself as she moved closer and closer to him.

The shooter captured her in his crosshairs and smiled, exhilaration surging through his entire body.

"Come to daddy, sweetheart!"

Urgent thumping woke Juliet from her late afternoon snooze. Jeff was waiting on the other side of the back door, wearing a shocked and stricken expression.

"I'm sorry to burst in on you like this, Jules." Juliet ushered him in, and Jeff instantly reached inside the fridge for a beer, swilling half of it down in one gulp. "But I really need a friend right now!"

"What's wrong?" She frowned. "You look awful!"

"The woman I was dating... remember you smelled her perfume? She... she was shot in the chest as she left her office this afternoon. She's dead."

"Oh my God, Jeffrey! How did it happen?" She squeezed his trembling hand.

"It was no accident. The police are calling it a mob hit. Her father and uncle were organized crime figures, and they were murdered at almost the same time... both shot in the head while drinking their afternoon grappa on the patio at Becco. Jim Gordon says there have been rising tensions between the Bertolini and Gambino families in the past few months. The police interviewed me for over two hours, but I couldn't tell them much except that she'd been troubled lately."

Jeff's haunted blue eyes blinked rapidly. "She kept having a premonition of something terrible happening, and she wanted me to go away with her. I refused."

"Oh don't! It's not your fault! This is not your fault!" Juliet hugged him tightly. "Did you... did you love her?"

Jeff pulled out of her arms and shook his head.

"The thing is, I... I really don't know, Jules, except that she made me feel good at a time when I really needed it. I cared enough about her to be devastated by her death."

"That's it, then!" Juliet said determinedly. "You're staying with me tonight! I don't want you to be alone."

"Yea..." He sighed. "I could use the company, Jules. Thanks. I can sleep downstairs if that's okay with you?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way. We'll make dinner together, and we'll watch the news, and we'll have a good long talk about everything, okay? I'll get you through this, Jeffrey."

The next morning, Juliet and Jeff sat across from one another, numbly staring at their uneaten breakfast. Neither had slept well.

Juliet had since learned that the female murder victim was the same woman with whom she'd struck up a friendship in the elevator, and that she had been shot just moments after Juliet had left her the previous day.

Although she grieved for the senseless killing of a woman she barely knew, the reality of having been in the line of fire shook her to the bone. It was as close to a near death experience as she'd ever had.

"I could have easily lost you if the killer had made a mistake..." It was a prospect that left Jeff feeling equally shaken.

Juliet's lip trembled, touched by his concern. She was exhausted by the stress of keeping secrets, and she had decided it was time to lay her cards on the table.

"Jeffrey... I need a friend, too."

"I know... and I'm here for you, as long as you need me."

A single tear rolled down her cheek. "It's just that I... I messed up. And now I'm pregnant."

Jeff blinked, dumbfounded by her news.

"Well, it's not mine!" He sputtered after an uncomfortable silence.

"No, it's not yours."

"I knew it... I knew there was something going on in your life, and I knew it was another man! Who is he? Do I know him?" Flustered, Jeff stood from his chair, babbling frantically as Juliet shook her head sadly.

"You're my best friend. I need your promise that you'll never tell. I'll go to prison, and they'll take the baby away..."

"What are you saying?" He squawked. "You're scaring me!"

"I want your promise!"

"Okay, yes, I swear to God I won't say a word." His voice continued to rise in panic. "Just tell me what the hell this is all about!"

"Well... two men broke into my house one night while I was out shopping. When I arrived home I went downstairs to put the groceries away. That was where they were hiding, and one of them jumped me and put a gun to my head."

Jeff turned white as a sheet. "Oh, Jules, honey! Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"Because... because they needed a place to hide, and the one with the gun bought my silence by telling me they had people watching you. They weren't ordinary thugs, Jeffrey. They knew things about us. They knew that you and I had been engaged. They knew that you planned to run for mayor, they knew your daily routine, and they said they'd kill you if I told anyone."

Jeff shook his head in disbelief. "Did they hurt you? How long did they stay?"

"Two months. They left a few weeks ago."

"You mean you were held hostage all that time? Oh my God! Why didn't I guess something was really wrong instead of being jealous? Who were they? Bank robbers?" He was practically hysterical.

"Not bank robbers. Mercenaries. They'd both been wounded on liberation day, one of them more severely than the other. They'd been hiding somewhere else - they never told me where - but they didn't feel comfortable in that place, so they came to my house."

Jeff's stomach dropped as the unthinkable shook his world.

"They raped you!"

"No... no, they didn't rape me."

"Then how are you pregnant? You didn't sleep with them in exchange for my life, did you? Tell me you didn't, Jules, because I'm not worth it!"

"No, it was nothing like that." She turned away, unable to look him in the eye. "I slept with one of them because... I wanted him."

Jeff's mouth dropped open. "You wanted him." He repeated quietly.

"Yes, I wanted him."

"Who the hell is this guy, then? Give him a name!" He demanded.

"It was... He was... Bane. The other man was Barsad, his sniper."

By now a full-on red rage had replaced Jeff's pallor.

"This is not a good time for making jokes." He observed, breathing heavily. His voice was low and fearful of the truth. "So, I take it that you're serious."

"Very serious, Jeffrey. I slept with Bane."

Stunned, Jeff shook his head. "I can't believe what I'm hearing! How could you have willingly had sex with that monster? He's not human! He's a murderer! He wrecked this city, and the damage will be felt for years! He deprived people of their homes, their jobs, and their lives, and he could have broken your neck anytime!"

"He was a perfect gentleman in my house. I never saw the Bane that I remember from the football stadium."

"Oh, well, that's nice to know!" Jeff answered sarcastically. "Why the hell did he target you, anyway?"

Juliet sighed, determined to give Jeff nothing less than the whole truth.

"We had one of those "across a crowded room" moments at City Hall. We were instantly attracted to one another. Barsad told me later that Bane had him track me. He had the idea that he could trust me, so they broke into my house. They lived downstairs while they were here... they made their own meals, did their own laundry..."

"As if that bastard hasn't taken enough from this city. He had to take you as well!"

"I told you, I wanted to sleep with him!"

"Jules, the guy needs to be shackled, brought to justice and put before the same kangaroo court he enforced on us! He deserves capital punishment. You and I are friends with Jim Gordon. How are we ever going to look him in the eye again?"

"Jim can never know. I did it for you, Jeffrey."

"And having sex with Bane? Did you do that for me, too?" He demanded.

"No, Jeffrey. I did that for me."

The bluntness of her confession rattled Jeff from head to toe.

"But, but Jules - you know how not to get pregnant..."

"I just threw caution to the wind. I didn't care."

A stunning irony washed over Jeff as he stared helplessly at the ceiling.

He had been engaged in a similar relationship with Nico - a woman with links to organized crime. They too had rushed into an intense, sexual affair with no thought of the future, therefore he had no right to point fingers at Juliet.

His mood relaxed, and he took his seat again.

"Believe it or not, I understand, Jules. I do understand. Nico and I were really going at it too. It was insane, but I loved every minute of it." He admitted shamelessly.

Juliet frowned, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Oh..." She murmured. "I would never have guessed..."

"Does he know you're pregnant?" The city counselor's protective nature had returned.

"No. I have no way of contacting him. Eventually, it will come to light that he's still alive, and when that happens he doesn't want me traced to him because I'll be arrested for hiding fugitives."

"Oh man, Jules!" He whined. "That just sounds to me like the brush-off from a bad boyfriend. Seduced and abandoned."

"Think what you like, Jeffrey!" She huffed. "I thought about going with him until I realized it was an impossible situation. We don't belong in each other's worlds."

"Well, I'm grateful you came to your senses. Have you seen the doctor yet?"

"Yes. Four weeks along. I can hardly believe it."

"You said you messed up, but I think you want this kid, seeing as you're afraid they'll take it away if you."

She nodded in affirmation. "It's been a lot to process, but there's no other option for me except to face up to my responsibilities."

"I hate that guy for what he did to our city, but the kid shouldn't be discarded because of his old man's sins. You made the right decision, Jules, and I got your back on this one. You know I'll always have your back!"

The following spring, Juliet gave birth to a daughter. From the moment the baby entered the world Jeff loved her as his own, and once their lives had settled down to a dull roar he and Juliet were married. One day they would have to tell the baby the truth about her birth father, so they made immediate plans to expand their family. Little cupcake would be surrounded by love to help buffer the emotional pain she might endure.

The child was the very image of Bane, and Juliet became emotional when she thought of him going through life unaware that he was the father of a beautiful daughter. She wrote to him regularly, even though the emails piled up in her "draft" mailbox with nowhere to go. She had no idea where he was, or whether he was dead or alive. But she was determined that if she were to ever see him again, she would have the life story of their daughter in words and pictures ready for him.

She often wondered how things would have transpired if she and Bane had been able to work things out, but she always came to the same conclusion. She had a husband that she loved who wasn't a wanted man. She didn't have to fear for his life or that of her child. She had a stable home, and her own business. It was all for the best.

"Heads up, brother. We have intruders at the gates."

Bane looked up from his tablet, on which he'd been playing a highly addictive game of military strategy.

"Why disturb me?" He grunted. "Have them shot and tossed off the mountain as per usual procedure!"

"I don't think you want to do that." Barsad grinned. "These are just kids."

"And what do we do with curious children from the village, brother? We threaten their parents with prison. You know what to do."

"Trust me, big guy, these aren't children. They're young adults, and I'm afraid I'm gonna have to insist that you see them."

Annoyed, Bane raised his aching backside from his chair. "Very well, I will humor you, brother. Confiscate their weapons and bring the prisoners to me."

"They have no weapons, Bane. I told you, these are kids."

The prisoners were eventually herded into Bane's tiny study, hooded and zip-cuffed. Each was outfitted with expensive climbing equipment, and it was clear that they didn't hail from the village below.

"I don't usually entertain guests in my personal space." Bane drawled, as he paced around the two figures. "But my lieutenant insists that I greet you in person. So without further adieu I must ask... what have we here?"

He slid the hood off the figure closest to him, revealing the determined visage of a girl approximately 20 years of age. While many prisoners experienced claustrophobia inside the hood, Bane sensed the girl hadn't been rattled at all, and that she had been more than ready for whatever waited beyond.

She was tall, with medium brown hair that was artfully controlled by a single braid. Her expression was fearless, and her dark brown eyes shone with gleeful triumph.

Something inside Bane shifted as goosebumps spread across his muscled arms. The mercenary felt faint, almost as if he'd inhaled too much analgesic.

"Passports!" He ordered, his voice cracking as he waited for Barsad to push the documents into his hand.

"You don't need to see our passports!" The girl spoke haughtily. "Surely you know who we are..." Her speech was cultured, self-assured, and rich with melody.

Bane had not been so taken aback since Selina Kyle fired a missile at him. The young woman's words were in the very least, partially true.

He knew her.

He knew her eyes and her frown. He recognized her confidence, and the smug pleasure she took in unsettling him. In her he saw a reflection of himself, past and present. Emotional lightning struck his core, and he knew without a doubt that he was standing in the presence of his very own child.

His heart pounded erratically and a lump rose in his throat as tears stung the back of his eyes. The how and why escaped him as conflicting emotions crashed against his shore.

Profound regret, a need to protect, and above all, fierce pride.

"Remove the boy's hood!" The girl ordered.

Stunned, Bane did as he was told. Under the second hood stood a young man a year or two younger than the girl. Even after the passing of so many years, Bane recognized that face as well.

He blinked back the moisture in his eyes as he perused their passports.

Skye Sorrento.

Cody Sorrento.

Sorrento.

The girl's voice rang out in the silence.

"Perhaps you understand now!"

Of course. Everything fell into place when he noted her birthdate. By his calculations, she was his child with Juliet Marchand - the child he never knew existed.

The younger boy had to be Juliet's child by Jeff Sorrento.

Devastated by all the lost years, Bane was filled with a terrible self-loathing. How could he have possibly not known? Why had he not known? He should have known.

He turned to Cody, addressing him sternly.

"Do you keep the wolves from your sister's door, boy?" His voice shook slightly, and sounded raspier than normal.

Cody beamed, awe-inspired in the presence of the legendary mercenary and fugitive from justice.

"She doesn't need any help from me, sir. Guys are terrified of her. She can drop any man with her arms tied behind her back."

The mercenary smiled warmly under the mask. Cody Sorrento favored his mother to the letter. Though he rarely spoke of Juliet, Bane's time with her was a treasured memory, a victory he had salvaged from the ruins of Gotham. Cody had her green eyes, dark hair and flippant personality.

"Your mother is well?" He asked hopefully.

"Yea... she's good." Cody shrugged, more interested in watching Bane's second-in-command cut through his zip-cuffs. "You must be Barsad."

Barsad scratched his greying beard. "The very one, kiddo. How about we let your sister get better acquainted with Bane? You and I'll have a couple of beers, and I'll give you the grand tour."

Cody looked to his sister, and she nodded.

"Go with Mr. Barsad." She said, and watched protectively as her brother disappeared down the hall with Bane's second-in-command.

With a whispered "one-two-three", Skye wrenched her wrists apart and the plastic zip-cuffs confining her broke into several pieces, littering the floor around her.

She was calm yet defiant. She took two deliberate steps toward Bane, crossing her arms as she awaited his reaction.

"Do you have nothing to say to your own child?" The girl revelled in her father's discomfort as an impish smile transformed her frowning demeanour.

"I...I have been blind-sided." Bane admitted, when he finally found his voice. "Truly, I do not know where to begin."

He was a father.

Bane had protected young Talia, but what did he know about being a father? A father was a spiritual advisor, a nurse, a teacher, and a 24-hour job. Did any of it matter given that the young woman before him clearly didn't need him?

"Very well, Father. I shall speak."

Father.

"I treasure my Gotham family. They are my world, but along with my family I have always lived with an enemy."

Enemy.

"I came here today to face that enemy!"

"No, child!"

"No what?" Barsad asked.

Bane leapt from his chair, confused. The girl had disappeared, and in her place stood his second-in-command.

"Where is she?" He demanded, his voice croaking with emotion.

"Where is who?" Barsad asked.

"My child! My daughter with Juliet. I must speak with her... convince her I am no enemy!"

Barsad frowned, patting him on the shoulder. "You've been dreaming again, brother!"

Shocked, Bane surveyed the room carefully, all the while deeply embarrassed that Barsad had caught him in yet another vulnerable moment...

Of course. After two years in Dakar, they had recently settled in at the monastery in the mountains. He had no child.

"Forgive me, brother, but she was as vivid to me as you are now!"

A sympathetic Barsad sighed as he once again prepared to play psychiatrist.

"This is what happens when you break formation, Bane. You normally kill people when you're done using them. Daggett, Pavel, Stryker, the Bertolini family. I admit that I was pissed when you called the hit on Nico, but I know it was for the best. What you didn't do was kill Juliet. The dream about unfinished business."

Bane resumed his seat in the comfortable chair by the fire. "It is of no use, brother!" He countered stubbornly. "I cannot kill her!"

"I know you can't. She's a good kid, and I liked her too. But look at it this way... you know how to reach her. You know where the duchess lives, and you've likely guessed that I have her phone number and email address. It may give you some peace and closure to contact her, because you're obviously not done with her yet."

Bane closed his eyes, remembering how he had feared even touching her that last night on the pier, and how he had gruffly turned his back on her. He had often fantasized about seeing her again, but a voice inside him warned against it. If he did as Barsad suggested, he might only be opening himself up for more regret.

How grateful he was for a glimpse of the child he would never have. He opened his eyes and stared bleakly into the dying embers of the fire.

"No, brother. The ship has sailed, so to speak, and I must let Juliet be."


End file.
